Separate Ways
by Abagail Snow
Summary: Future Fic: Rachel and Finn were meant to be together, that's what she always thought, but when fate drives their lives apart they go their separate ways, that is until Rachel learns of Finn's engagement... and she'll do anything to stop it.
1. Prologue: If You Love Someone

**Summary: **Rachel and Finn were meant to be together, that's what she always thought, but when fate drives their lives apart they go their separate ways, that is until Rachel learns of Finn's engagement.

**Pairings: **Finn/Rachel with Kurt/Blaine. Includes the rest of the Gleeks as well.

**Author's Note: **So this is my first future fic and takes place the summer the Gleeks are 22, right when they're all graduating college. It's a romantic comedy if you will and right now I have about 8 parts planned (although some of the scenes are taking on a life of their own and expanding further than I anticipated) I'm taking cannon up to _A Very Glee Christmas_ and ignoring the current spoilers (unless something really awesome happens).

* * *

**Prologue: **If You Love Someone, Set Them Free, _Then Go Back Out and Get Them _

Rachel Berry took a deep breath and hefted the worn duffel bag of freshly cleaned laundry higher onto her shoulder. The lamp in the hallway fluttered faintly, obviously on the latter end of its days, causing the corridor to be quite dim. She noted that she would have to remind the maintenance staff of the dead bulb (again) or at least warn them of the severe risks of a lawsuit from one of the tenants (namely her) falling down the stairs or being brutally assaulted.

She muttered a few well placed obscenities as she rounded the corner to take on the next flight of stairs. Six flights. There were six flights of stairs that created a barrier between her and her tiny, miniscule, nearly nonexistent one bedroom apartment. Nothing like the enormous loft she occupied mere months ago. When she closed her eyes she could still picture the view off her balcony window. The sparkling lights that would dance across the glass and illuminate her entire apartment with the magic of the City. Brooklyn wasn't even in the city, not the part that counted at least.

Rachel lifted her chin defiantly and trudged up the steps. Life was an uphill battle and she was prepared to conquer it all, even if it consisted solely on twelve step intervals (not _that_ kind, at least not yet.)

On step seven she heard the distinct and muffled sound of her cell phone from the handbag perched atop her laundry sack. She carefully tried to swing the small handbag into her reach without disturbing the equilibrium of the two weeks' worth of laundry piled on her back, and had to balance the pack on the stairway banister to avoid a tumble down the stairs. The phone rang for a third time and she felt a building anxiety.

If this call was the call she was eagerly anticipating, it would be life changing. It would be the end of staircases and the reemergence of elevators. It would be the end of microwave bean noodles and the welcome revival of nightly takeout. It would be the end of Rachel Berry: Serving Wench and the triumphant return of Rachel Berry: Broadway Star.

Fumbling through her purse she regretted selecting the slouchy hobo bag from the questionable street vendor outside Time Square because although it looked adorable with her Bohemian blouses, its single compartment was a crime against organization. On the fifth ring she was unable to feign patients any longer and began to hurl the contents of her purse down the stairs. She feared for any of her neighbors who were braving the journey up to the sixth floor of this walk up at 8:56PM, as they probably hadn't read about the 85% chance of a protein bar and crumpled receipt shower in the evening's forecast.

Victoriously, she finally grasped the signing phone just in time to watch the display switch to the "Missed Call" screen. She briefly mourned the missed opportunity before regaining her composure. She got the part whether she spoke to the agent in person or not, she reminded herself. In fact, hearing of her new role via voice message would allow her to celebrate with the reckless abandon that came along with the confirmation that she, Rachel Berry was no one hit wonder. Because it wasn't like she was desperate to get work. No matter what her current situation seemed to imply.

She kept her cell phone clasped firmly in her hand to anticipate the chirp that indicated a new voice message had been logged as she made her way up the last few steps to her apartment. Tossing her laundry onto her bed to be dealt with later, she clicked through her phone menu to discover she had already missed a message. The hum of washing machines and dryers were so loud at the Laundromat she hadn't even heard it ring.

Rachel recognized the number as her fathers' and quickly typed in the security code on her voicemail to listen.

"_Rachel honey, it's your father. We haven't heard from you in a few weeks and you missed the last family dinner… we just want to make sure everything is okay. Your dad and I are going up to the Cape for the summer and thought that you may want to join us. There's plenty of room in the beach house and we know how much you love whale watching off Provincetown. I know work has been tough and maybe some time off to clear your head will be good for you. Give us a call, that's not a request it's an order, and remember that we love you very much and although times are tough, your star will always shine brightest."_

Rachel felt her shoulders slump as she allowed her eyes to scan her surroundings. The stack of newspapers on her end table that had gone untouched for weeks was dangerously close to buckling across the floor. She had meant to clip a few coupons from the weekend paper but had been ignoring it like the plague, because that would mean she needed help. The dishes in the sink were now overflowing to the surrounding counter space and she knew if sixteen year old Rachel Berry had caught sight of this disarray she would have thrown an epic hissy fit.

Without further delay, she returned her attention back to her phone and grinned at the confirmation of her newest voicemail. Dialing back into her inbox, she held the phone to her ear eagerly.

"_Hello, this is Anna Richmond, calling from the Nederlander Theatre with regards to the 20__th__ Anniversary revival of Rent. Miss Berry, we're calling to let you know that although we were tremendously impressed with your audition for the role of Maureen, I mean really truly impressed, we've decided to go in a different direction for this production. We look forward to the possibility of working with you again Miss Berry and hope you consider collaborating with us in the future."_

The line went dead and Rachel nearly dropped the phone to the floor in shock. This wasn't the first time she had received an overly encouraging rejection message and their "kind" words were becoming increasingly hollow to her now jaded ears. She stared at the display of her phone for a long moment and cued up her fathers' home line. Her thumb hovered over the send button before retreating to the "End Call" escape.

Instead she decided to invest her efforts in something that she could control. Her laundry. She made the short trip to her bedroom but paused when she caught a glimpse of herself in the bathroom mirror.

It was like a ghost. A shadow of herself that crept through the darkness of her life. She took a hesitant step forward to inspect the image before her. Her eyes were dark and tired and she could trace the exhaustion from the inner corner to the apple of her cheek. She missed the sparkle in her eye. Finn had coined it "The Crazy," much to her displeasure, but she knew that that sparkle was her ambition and drive; it was at the essence of what made Rachel Berry who she was. Twenty two was much too young to lose that glimmer.

Shaking her attention from her self pity, she popped her iPod into its docking station and hit "Play."

"Let the lyrics be your guide," she said to herself. It was a game that she played from time to time. She would close her eyes and let the music envelope her and she would listen, truly listen to the words as if they were sage advice.

"_Last night I had a dream:_

_I found myself in a desert called Cyberland_

_It was hot_

_My canteen had sprung a leak and I was… thirsty"_

She flinched and dove towards her docking station, fumbling desperately with the buttons to flip to the next track but her futile attempts only sprang the song forward a few verses and the haunting song once again began blaring.

"_I gotta get out of here!_

_It's like being tied to the hood of a yellow rental truck, bein' packed in with fertilizer and fuel oil, pushed over a cliff by a suicidal Micky Mouse!_

_I got to got to got to got to_

_Got to got to got to got to_

_Got to got to find a way_

_To jump over the moon_

_Only thing to do is jump over the moon."_

"Shut up, Maureen," Rachel shouted at her MP3 player. "You don't know what's good for me!" Successfully she changed to the next track, only to be struck with an equivalent urge to scream.

"_Just a small town girl,_

_Living in a lonely world._

_She took the midnight train going anywhere."_

Of course it had to be _this_ song, she thought to herself. It was entirely typical of her life to get up on its high horse and point a mocking finger in her face while taunting, "Hey! Remember that time that you were happy? Because not anymore you're not!"

The song always brought her back to her sophomore year of high school. When six nobodies could join together and show that anything was possible. When the self proclaimed diva without a soul in her corner could win the heart of the high school quarterback.

She frowned. She missed Finn.

Her eyes darted towards the laptop balanced on her bedside table and she nursed her lower lip between her teeth. She shook her head defiantly and poured the contents of her laundry bag onto her bed.

"_Just a city boy,_

_Born and raised in South Detroit_

_He took the midnight train going anywhere."_

Rachel held up a tee shirt and suddenly forgot the proper method to fold it. Her eyes lazily drifted back at the laptop that was suddenly screaming for attention.

She couldn't stop wondering what he was up to. They hadn't spoken in over a year and she had done her best to cut him out of her life entirely, since he was adamant to do the same with her. It's not like they hated one another, it was the furthest from that. They had grown apart and seeing or thinking about him now… it just hurt too much.

Sloppily folding the cotton tee she dropped it on the floor to begin the "done" pile. Next, she lifted up a black sweater. The color had since faded to a gray hue and the wide eyed owl that stared back at her had definitely seen better days.

"_I like your sweater. It looks like the owl from those Tootsie pop commercials, which is like my favorite candy."_

Running her fingers along the gold sequence, she felt her breath catch in her throat. She missed Finn a lot.

"_Strangers waiting_

_Up and down the boulevard_

_Their shadows searching in the night"_

She folded like a cheap deck of cards and abandoned her clothes for her attention seeking laptop. She flipped on the power and typed the password in with practiced ease.

She could already hear Kurt's delicious gasp before accusing her of being a "total Facebook stalker." Clicking through her bookmarks the page loaded and she was shocked to see the first entry on her News Feed.

_**Finn Hudson **__is engaged to __**Allison Potter**__._

Complete with a mocking pink heart to better emphasis the complete disaster she had stumbled into. She felt her heart stop and was truly convinced that the Earth had ceased to spin. Clutching to her bedspread she shut her eyes tightly and anticipated the inevitable loss of gravity that would send her spiraling out the window and straight to the peak of the Empire State Building.

She drew in a long calming breath, finally channeling the three years of yoga she religiously attended. Rebalancing her energy she lifted one hesitant lid to verify she wasn't dreaming.

_96 people like this._

"Traitors," she muttered under her breath.

_**Kurt Hummel**__ about time you changed your status, I was beginning to think the wedding I was planning due to occur in six weeks was a hoax because it wasn't facebook official._

Rachel gasped; whatever happened to his comforting words of "I'll never lose hope for Finchel" that he offered her while she was mourning the loss of the single most important relationship of her life!

_**Allison Potter**__ I know, right? I had to hack into his account to change it! I think he forgot he even had a facebook page. Note that his profile picture is no longer circa 2010!_

Against her better judgment, Rachel clicked on Finn's profile page to see that the picture she had selected when setting up his profile the summer before junior year (the one she had taken on her cell phone, while spending a lazy afternoon at the elementary school playground and he was stretched out on the turnstile with his sunglasses pushed up the bridge of his nose) had been replaced with a clichéd image of two beautiful smiling people at a wine tasting.

She panicked and reached around her bed without allowing her eyes to leave the computer screen to find her phone, which had been discarded under a pile of socks. She began scrolling through her address book with the intensity of the CIA tracking terrorist activity. She needed answers, stat.

_Tina,_ she considered for a moment. No, she was off in Massachusetts during most of the year finishing up her degree. Even if she were home in Lima for the summer, she wouldn't be caught up on details. She wasn't exactly the gossip capital of the club. _Quinn,_ was an interesting choice, but she would probably gloat with some cruel assessment like "Looks like neither one of us will get him." _Kurt,_ she couldn't call for obvious reasons, Finn could not know she was investigating his personal life, which eliminated _Mercedes_ from the list of candidates as well due to the Kurt connection. _Santana…_ Rachel couldn't even believe she still had her in her address book. _Brittany_ was the next on her list but the chances of her giving a coherent recollection of events was completely unlikely. Which left… _him._

She cringed tightly before dialing "Send."

"Is it true?" She demanded before he could deliver whatever smarmy line he had prepared for such an occasion.

"I'm sorry, who is this?" Puck replied, his voice innocently teasing.

"Noah, don't play games. This is serious."

"Let me guess, you were snooping around Finn's facebook."

She narrowed her eyes challengingly, even though she knew that Noah couldn't see it. "Is it true?" She repeated.

"Well yeah," he paused and she imagined him shrugging a single shoulder in his usual _I couldn't care less_ demeanor. "It happened like forever ago."

"How?" Her voice broke and when she held a hand up to her damp cheek she realized she had began to cry. "We didn't even break up forever ago. How can he already be getting married?"

"Because Finn is the definition of whipped in any incarnation of a relationship?" He paused for a long moment. "What was he supposed to do? Wait for you forever? You're the one who left."

Rachel pulled the phone away from her ear and hurled it across the room. The sting in her eye was becoming more than she could bare and she finally gave in to the blood curdling sobs that were building deep in her chest.

"_All by myself,_

_Don't want to be_

_All by myself, Anymore!"_

Rachel lifted her chin high, slammed the lid of her laptop closed, and stood to her feet as tall as her five foot three inches of height would allow. Picking up her laundry sack, she stuffed all of her clothing back into the bag, not even bothering to fold the remaining items. She crossed the room and popped her iPod out of its docking station.

Turning on her heels, she pulled the duffel bag over her shoulder and marched defiantly out of her wretched apartment. Although the song had long ended she sang softly, "Don't stop, believing," as she danced down the stairs.

"Hold on to that feeling!" She sang with more gusto.

"Don't stop!"

**...**

**Don't want to be a nag or beg or anything, but if you like it please, Please, PLEASE don't be afraid to review. It's so promising and inspiring and encourages others to check the story out (and you know makes me feel awesome about myself)**

**More coming soon...  
**


	2. Love Means Never Having to Say

**Author's Note: **Thank you, thank you, thank you for all the wonderful and amazing reviews! It's so fun and exciting when you log in and see what people have to say about your wild imagination, it's very encouraging. I should add that the song lyrics from the Prologue was "Over the Moon" from Rent, "Don't Stop Believing" (heh, obviously) from Journey, and "All By Myself" the Celine Dion version. The story title is also named after the Journey song "Separate Ways," which will play a role in the story... hope you enjoy!

* * *

**Chapter One: **Love Means Never Having to Say You're Sorry, _Have You Met My Fianc_é_e?_

There was an incessant knock at his door and he was pretty sure if he could hold off answering it for a few more seconds, that the irritating intruder would pound their own fist into dust. Puck ran a hand over his cleanly buzzed hair and snuck a glance at the clock on the microwave.

8:00AM

Who came over uninvited at 8AM on a Saturday? If it was one of those Jehovah's Witness freaks again, he had a giant Torah waiting next to his front door to smack them across the face with for bothering him on the Sabbath.

Puck opened the door and was forced to adjust his gaze downward to find Rachel Berry on the other side.

He blinked a few times. "Didn't I just talk to you last night… from New York?"

"That's true," Rachel's eyes were wide and unmoving.

Puck leaned his shoulder against the door jam and cracked a nervous grin at the presence of an obviously crazy person. "Doesn't it take like ten hours to drive to Lima from New York City?"

"Nine hours and fifty two minutes if you drive approximately five to ten miles above the posted speed limit and only take three, eight minute stops for bodily relief and refreshments," she replied in a quick drone. Puck glanced over her shoulder to check for any faulty circuitry from _Rachel-bot5000._

"How did you drive all night?" He asked his voice light with amusement.

"I drank a case of Red Bull." She pressed her hand against his chest and pushed him aside to welcome herself into his home. "Speaking of which, may I use your restroom?"

Puck's eyes followed the retreating brunette and allowed for his grin to settle into an easy chuckle. That was until his gaze fell to the floor to discover the pile of luggage at his feet. A pile of luggage that suggested a visit of much longer than a few days.

He pulled out his phone while keeping his eyes trained on the bathroom door.

_SOS we have a problem._

Puck took a few careful steps towards the door. "So Rachel," he began slowly, with the precision of an expert bomb diffuser. "What are you doing here? In my apartment. In Ohio."

He heard the sound of the sink faucet shut off and the door snapped open.

"I would have stayed at my fathers' house," she explained calmly, "but as you may know they moved to Connecticut nearly two years ago for a number of reasons but mainly to be closer to me."

"Emphasizing my original question," he interrupted. "What are you doing _here?_"

"Isn't it obvious?" She moved past him to pick up her duffel bag from outside his front door. "I'm here to stop the wedding."

Puck rolled his eyes and let out an exhausted groan. "Of course," he said throwing his arms in the air helplessly. "And obviously, you've chosen to drag me into your crusade too."

She lifted an innocent hand to her chest. "Look, Noah, you and I both know that you've always had this irrational need to 'one up' Finn. It was only a matter of time before you seduced this Allison girl, you might as well do it now before they put pen to paper and things get really messy."

Puck was incredulous, "You want me to sleep with Finn's fiancée?"

"If you haven't already…"

He set his jaw and looked at her stone faced. "That's low, Rachel, even for you."

Rachel bowed her head to stare at the floor. "I'm sorry, I…" her eyes fluttered shut and she took a few steady breaths before opening them again. "I just can't let him marry her." She moved to sit on the couch and fidgeted with the strap of her duffel bag. "I've been miserable since he ended things and if I didn't tell him how I felt before it was too late, I'd never forgive myself."

He reached out a hand and quietly debated whether or not to comfort her when a figure appeared in the doorway.

"What is this emergency?" Kurt Hummel asked without even looking up from the Blackberry that he furiously typed on. "If this is about the whole best man or co-best man debacle that you will not let rest because _I_ am his brother and _I _am the one planning this whole shindig, I will have to once again politely tell you to shove iii…" Kurt was halfway through the motion of swiping his bangs across his brow when he spotted Rachel on the sofa. He stood frozen and it wasn't only his pale demeanor that gave him a haunting resemblance to a ghost. "What is she doing here? How did you let her come here?" He demanded pointing an accusing finger in her direction.

"That's why I called you, dude." Puck shrugged helplessly, "She just showed up this morning."

"I knew we should have deactivated Finn's facebook profile."

Rachel stood to her feet and smoothed her skirt over her thighs. "How could you let this happen, Kurt? I thought we were friends!"

Kurt sighed, tilting his head to the side as if he'd been slapped. "We were and we still are. But I have to show my loyalties. You did a real number on Finn last year and he doesn't need you back in his life to complicate things."

"We were together for four and a half years," she replied sadly. "We broke up last January. How could she possibly compare?"

He took an exasperated breath. "This isn't the chance for you to act out some _My Best Friend's Wedding_ like fantasy where you portray a sort of second rate Julia Roberts, this is somebody's life!" He pressed a finger to his lips unable to pass up a fantastically compelling wedding crisis. "Although if you're looking to cast your Rupert Everett, I guess I could be swayed."

Rachel remained defiant. "He's _mine_."

"Listen, Princess," Kurt approached her carefully and placed his hands on her shoulders. "You and Finn had your epic romance, the 'Once upon a time,' the evil step sister, the conniving prince, you sang a bunch of sappy love songs, but when you reached 'and then they lived happily ever after,' guess what? You didn't." Kurt ducked down to ensure he held Rachel's gaze. "Your Fairy Godmother granted your wish and transplanted you from this hell hole to your castle in New York, but you didn't consider where Prince Charming fit into the equation, now did you?"

Rachel narrowed her eyes, "I made a mistake."

"And what's going to stop you from making that mistake again?" He took a deep breath. "You two live on two diverging paths. It's like a puzzle. Your pieces look good next to one another, but no matter which way you turn it, it doesn't fit. Finn and Allison, they fit. Don't mess that up because you're being selfish."

She tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and nodded quickly. "You're right," she decided. Nursing her bottom lip between her teeth she began to pace across the room. "Finn's an adult and if he thinks he's found the person he wants to spend the rest of his life with, who am I to stop him?" With a startling amount of cheer from her original melancholia, Rachel placed her hands on her hips. "It was silly of me to come. I'll be on the road and out of your hair by sundown. I promise."

Kurt's eyebrows dipped suspiciously, he obviously hadn't expected talking sense into Rachel Berry to be accomplished so easily. He backed away slowly. "Perfect, I'll come by later to help you pack."

"No need," she said holding up a dismissing hand. "All I ask is that you keep Finn distracted long enough so I can slip out through the wings undetected. I'd hate to think my presence would in any way be a burden on his future happiness. You must understand how humiliating this is on my part too, to so impulsively jump in my car and drive five hundred miles expecting we'd miraculously be reunited."

"Of course," he said carefully. Still not completely convinced by her sincerity, he decided to risk it and pulled Rachel into a hug. "Well it was wonderful seeing you. I hope everything's great… in New York."

She hugged him tightly. "It's simply spectacular! You and Blaine must come visit as soon as the frenzy of the wedding has ended."

He hesitated before relenting with a tight chuckle, "I'll see you then!" He threw a glance in Puck's direction, "Make sure she gets on the road safely, yeah?"

Puck patted Kurt on the back and escorted him to the door. "Don't you worry; I'll pay for the gas if I have to."

The door had barely latched before Rachel had her bag in hand and began looking in each room. "Where is your guest room?" She requested, frowning when she opened the door to the hall closet.

Puck's eyebrows knitted in confusion, "I don't have one."

She tapped a finger against her chin thoughtfully for a moment, "Then I guess you'll have to sleep on the couch for the time being."

He was incredulous. "Excuse me?"

"You wouldn't force your guest to sleep on the couch, would you?"

"You're not leaving are you?" Puck asked with his shoulders slumping in defeat.

"Of course not," she scoffed. "Now, I'm off to the store, I doubt you have anything organic _or_ vegan in that kitchen of yours, and if I'm going to concoct a plan to re-win the heart of Finn Hudson, I don't need any additives interrupting my thought process."

Puck watched helplessly as Rachel gathered her handbag, offering an innocent wave before heading out the door. Kurt was going to kill him.

…

Finn Hudson hoisted the three-ring binder onto the granite top of the breakfast bar. It was remarkably heavy for such a small book, and as he inspected the contents he was startled by how meticulous and detailed his stepbrother had been in his wedding preparations. A yellow post-it (with multiple circles and underlined words for emphasis) greeted him on the front cover.

_Finn,_

_For the love of everything that is good in this world, I beg you: Please pick out the __band__ already! It is your __only__ responsibility for this soiree and the __only__ thing that has yet to be booked. It can be a __DJ__, a __Rock and Roll Band__, a __string quartet__, a boom box placed in the corner or even a __singing clown__ if that's what you'd like, but please pick __something__ and please do it __soon!__ Pages __**108 **__through __**122**__ include the names, numbers, and rates of any musical entertainment that you could possibly imagine. __**PICK ONE!**_

_Love Always,_

_Your Increasingly Aggravated Stepbrother_

Finn pursed his lips and flipped open the binder, fanning through the pages in a quick blur of shiny wedding wonder, he sighed heavily before slamming the book shut. Whatever, he'd do it later.

He pushed the book aside and tapped at his temple while he debated what he'd have for breakfast. Pushing off the breakfast bar, he leaned back into his chair. Waffles would be awesome, he decided before rounding the corner of the kitchen counter to pop some waffles into the toaster.

He had only moved into this apartment a few months ago and he was still at a loss as to where he had stored all the plates and silverware. He knew that he initially had organized to match the layout that his mom used (as closely as possible, at least) because that was something he could remember, but Allison was adamant that the flow made meal preparation nearly impossible and had stealthily reorganized under the guise of "unloading the dishwasher." She wasn't even living with him, not yet at least, but somehow every aspect of his apartment screamed "girl did it."

He hadn't even planned on moving back to Lima after college, honestly. But when May came around and he no longer had the University crutch, he wasn't sure where exactly to go. Coincidently, Allison only lived a few towns over from Lima, and when Burt asked Finn to take on a large part of the business at the tire store, it was the only option that really made sense.

The wedding binder caught the corner of his eye and he stared at it for a long moment as if it had been watching him. Curiosity got the best of him and he reached out to slide the book in front of him. With the caution one takes when reading a siblings diary, Finn opened the book to the first page. Caterers, dresses, tuxes, linens, favors, invitations, venues… he felt like he was going to have a heart attack. Why did so many things have to _happen_ for two people to get married? Couldn't they just go to the beach or the courthouse or fill out an application online or something?

Finn flipped to the last page, which in bold letters read: BUDGET, in the title. He traced a finger to the bottom of the "Total" column and gasped.

$26,000.

His entire life's savings was about to be blown on a nice Crudecrud, or whatever stupid appetizers Kurt had selected for them. He shut the binder and vowed never to look at it again. He would sing at his own damn wedding and that was final and he'd charge himself negative twenty-six-thousand dollars for his services.

Finn refocused his attention to the waffles that had just popped from the toaster. The waffles that cost sixty cents a disk and were just as delicious as the stupid salmon filet that was costing him eighty bucks a head. He had just doused his breakfast with syrup (8 cents per serving, but who was keeping track?) when his stepbrother appeared in his living room.

"Did you pick the music yet?" Kurt asked hopefully. "You will not believe the morning I've had, and the relief of you finally making a damn decision with regards to this wedding will clear up any gray skies that are darkening my day."

"Yeah," he said through a mouthful of food. "I'm going to do the singing."

Kurt folded his arms across his chest and moved to sit at the bar. "You're kidding, right?"

Finn pointed at his face. "Do I look like I'm kidding?" He maneuvered around the cabinets and pulled out a set of mugs. "Coffee?"

His brother was already in the process of flipping through pages 108 through 122 and he only offered a distracted confirming wave. "How about a DJ," he said pointing at an advertisement in the binder. "This one has a bubble machine."

"A bunch of people from glee are going to be there anyway?" Finn shrugged as he slid a mug of coffee across the counter. "Why can't we just sing like we did at our parent's wedding?"

"This one is a Beatles' cover band," he said again dismissing Finn's suggestion. "What's more romantic than them?"

"I just don't see the point of wasting so much money on five hours that I'm going to be too drunk to remember," he explained and tilted his head thoughtfully. "Come on you, me and Puck will be there. And Artie and Tina and Mike and Mercedes. Even Mr. Schue will be there. I'm sure Allison's got some friends who can sing to balance out the female parts. I just think it will be kind of awesome and you know… free."

Kurt lifted the mug to his lips and took a quick sip, "I think it's a terrible idea."

"Why?" He challenged, because it was _his_ wedding after all.

"Glee? The joy of singing? That is not a part of yours and Allison's relationship and you know it."

Finn knew what Kurt was implying. Singing at their own wedding had _She Who Shall Not Be Named _written all over it. "Fine," he frowned. "I'll think about it then."

"Soon," he reminded him before flipping to the last page to update the final total. Finn cringed when he saw the plus sign in front of the cost of eight hundred dollars.

"I'll ask Puck for suggestions. I was going to go play Xbox at his place for a while."

The pen that he was using to update his documents suddenly dragged across the page straight onto the countertop with a jolt and Kurt's face turned to that of sheer panic. "Puck's apartment? You were going to spend the day there?"

Finn shoved the last of his breakfast into his mouth and turned to the sink to rinse it. "Yeah."

"You can't do that," he said desperately, seemingly picking any words he could find in the thin air. "You have to help Allison!"

He dropped his shoulders and groaned as he stumbled back to the center island. "No way," he whined. "She's going shopping for thank you notes and table confetti with her girlfriends and it is _so_ boring."

"That's perfect!" Kurt exclaimed. "You can pick out the balloons for the reception. The ones we're going to drop from the ceiling for your grand entrance."

Finn tried to calculate how much this would cost but could only settle on a buttload. "What?"

"It will be spectacular, I promise." Kurt said pulling out his Blackberry to type a message. "I'll let Allison know you're on your way." He stood from his chair and made his way through the door. "Let me know about the music _tonight,_" he said pausing at the threshold. "And make sure you don't get opaque balloons, otherwise the guests won't be able to see the glitter we're going to fill them with."

Finn wasn't sure what _opaque_ meant but before he could open his mouth to question his enthusiastic brother, he was already gone.

…

Rachel admired the pink lilies that were tucked neatly into her shopping basket. She was certain that Puck would simply love the thank you gesture for allowing her to lodge at his apartment during these urgent times. Taking inventory of her purchase, she was sure that it included plenty of brain food (well according to brainfood .org, at least). Blueberries, chocolate, green tea and the most premium of Columbian roasts would all but guarantee her success in winning back Finn Hudson's heart. That and maybe a Journey song.

Letting out an impatient sigh, she inspected the label of the cereal box she had selected while she waited on line. Normally, she'd peruse the latest gossip magazine, but she found herself too far back in line to select one without interfering with the personal space of the group of girls in front of her.

Not that they would notice. They were much too busy laughing and making wildly large gestures as if they were sipping cosmos at an elite club instead of waiting in line at a super suburban Kroger to purchase some stationary.

The center of attention was tall and blonde and vaguely familiar. She was exactly like Quinn, Rachel quickly distinguished. She commanded attention without ever making a grand show of herself and when she so much as lifted one of her perfectly manicured fingers, one of her minions was quick to relieve her of the duty.

"Do you get to retake your picture when you change your name on your driver's license?" She asked inspecting the card, while they waited for their turn in line. "This one is awful. I didn't even get to brush my hair first."

"What do you mean?" One of her friends spoke up. "I didn't think you were changing your name."

Rachel tipped her chin, unable to avoid the urge of listening. If she were a part of the conversation, which she wasn't, she'd state that as a career woman your name is _everything_. Nobody would book Barbra Brolin to perform at the Kennedy Center.

Quinn-lite scoffed, "That's when I thought I was going to marry Greg Hasselmann, all those loops and n's? It would be a pain to sign. I hope they retake the photo; I'm losing fifteen pounds for this wedding so there's not a body part out of place when I slip that dress on. I've already lost ten pounds and I'll cut off a hand if I have to, to trim off those last five."

"Oh stop, you look fantastic and you know it!" Another friend chirped. "I guess having the same last name makes it easier. Then it's less words to fit on the address labels."

Rachel frowned; well maybe having a professional name could be kept different from a legal name. She couldn't deny that she always had a fondness for the way _Rachel Hudson_ rolled off the tongue. And there was something so romantic (yet completely degrading) about being known as _Misses Finn Hudson._

This made Quinn-lite beam with excitement. "I've already picked out the design. They're all sparkly and have butterflies on them, which are kind of my thing." Rachel narrowed her eyes. She wanted them. Except she'd put a gold star over all of those stupid insects. "And they read Mr. & Mrs. Finn Hudson," she finished, causing Rachel to drop her shopping basket with a gasp.

"Are you all right?" Quinn-lite, who had now revealed herself as her arch nemesis, _Allison Potter_ asked.

Rachel's lips parted but no sound came out. "Yes, of course," she finally said as she bent over to scoop up her fallen groceries. "I just realized how many carbs were in these," she said nervously and held up the box of cereal for emphasis.

"Oh," her smile said polite but her eyes screamed annoyance.

Feeling trapped and unable to stand the sudden awkwardness a moment longer, Rachel grinned helplessly, "Better put this back!" She turned on her heels and darted away.

Her eyes welled with tears and she shook her head frantically to scare away the feeling. He was going to marry _her._

She had only made it a few steps away when she collided into a broad chest. "Do you think these balloons are see-through enough?" He asked before his breath caught in his throat at the recognition of the person he was talking to. "Oh shit."

He stiffened before settling into an uncomfortable stance. Even after years of growing into his long limbs there was still an awkward innocence to his movements. He was still so tall and she had to tilt her head back just to see his face. His hair was cropped, yet messy and she could remember his morning routine of rustling his hair all of five seconds in front of the mirror before attending to more important matters: breakfast. And then he smiled in that earnest way that made her knees weak and the whole world fall in love with him.

"Finn, we're over here," Allison waved from aisle six.

Finn's eyes jumped to his fiancée but then back to the petite woman in front of him. His dark eyes swelled with something unfamiliar and he had to lick his lips a few times before he could actually speak.

"Rachel…"

Finn kneaded the package of balloons in his hand so powerfully that his thumbs popped through the thin plastic.

She hadn't planned for him to see her this way. Not for the first time in eighteen months at least. She was still in her ratty driving sweats and hadn't slept a wink in the past thirty-six hours. Running a hand to calm the frizz in her disheveled hair, her eyes jumped to her grocery basket. So much for carefully collecting brain food to orchestrate their entirely epic reunion, she thought to herself. She debated making a run for it. Disappearing out of the store before he could fully comprehend that she was there, but suddenly she found her feet weighing a thousand pounds each and she couldn't move. She bowed her head, unable to look at him yet unable to escape his uncertain stare.

"Finn!" Allison repeated and placed her hands on her slender hips expectantly.

His breath caught in his throat and no matter how hard he struggled he couldn't draw his gaze away from Rachel's fluttering lashes, willing for her to meet his eye.

"Finn, are you blind?" Allison stomped over to him and glanced at Rachel suspiciously. "What's going on? Do you know her or something?"

"Yeah, yeah," he smiled tightly. "This is my _friend_, Rachel; we were in glee club together in high school."

"Oh," Allison narrowed her eyes curiously. "That's wonderful; Finn always speaks so fondly of his glee days."

Rachel tried not to let the sting of the word _friend_ affect her and she plastered her best "show smile" across her lips. "Well he should," she agreed with her attention still on him. "He was quite good."

Rachel finally took the opportunity to really look at Allison for the first time. She was tall and slender and everything about her seemed to be delicate and petite, yet she held her posture with a stance that read as anything but weak. Her face had the structure of a classic beauty, much like Quinn. Long lashes, high cheekbones, plump lips, and a small perfectly sculpted nose. Rachel self consciously covered her own nose with two fingers, fully aware that she too was being sized up by her rival's striking green eyes.

Allison paused for a long moment to wait for her introduction and brushed her left hand through her long blond hair in order to flash the large diamond on her engagement finger. "I'm Allison, Finn's fiancée," she said taking it upon herself with a broad grin and extended her hand in greeting. Rachel shook it quickly and took a few steps back to maintain a suitable distance.

Allison placed a hand on Finn's arm. "Are you okay, sweetie? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Yeah, sorry," he blinked a few times. "I was just… I was surprised to see you, Rachel. How long have you been in town?"

"I just arrived this morning," she said.

"Oh," Finn said. His eyes were darting around the store and never spent more than a few seconds settled on an object before moving to their next target. It was his go to routine for displaying discomfort, especially when paired with the uneasy shifting of weight from foot to foot, and Rachel couldn't help but wonder if Allison was able to recognize his subtle indicators as well as she could. "I thought you were busy in New York. You know being a star and stuff."

She smiled as best she could to hide the sadness in her eyes. "I'm just in between projects right now," she explained, "and wanted to come home for a little bit of well needed soul searching."

"What did you do in New York?" Allison interjected.

"I was on Broadway," she explained, but chose not to elaborate when Finn's gaze immediately fell to the floor.

Allison nudged at his arm. "You never told me you had a famous friend!"

Finn shrugged. "I guess I never really thought of it that way." He narrowed his eyes and lifted his chin after a moment. "Wait, where are you staying? I thought your dads moved."

Rachel was taken aback for a moment. Of course he knew that her dads had moved. He had helped pack all the boxes not even two years ago and when her dads left a few days early to beat the moving truck to their new home in Connecticut, she and Finn had taken it upon themselves to have sex in every empty room of the house.

"They did," she confirmed. "I'm staying with Noah."

Finn's eyes widened. "Oh," he said.

"How long will you be in town?" Allison inquired, the only participant capable of having a conversation under the circumstances.

"A while," she said.

There was a sudden brightness in Allison's eyes, as if the steady gears of her brain had stumbled upon some brilliant idea. "Will you be around the first weekend of August?"

Finn set his jaw and tucked his hands into the back pockets of his jeans, still clutching the stupid pack of balloons, which was making the motion quite difficult. "Allison what are you doing?"

"You said Rachel was in the glee club, right? _And _a star on Broadway?" Allison tilted her head as if to say _duh_. "That means she's a pretty decent singer. Correct?"

Finn's eyes shot to Rachel like a magnet. His dark eyes staring at her with the same wonderment they held when they were fifteen. "The best."

"Rachel, would you consider singing at our wedding?" Allison asked abruptly, clasping her hands under her chin hopefully.

Rachel's legs felt as if they were about to buckle and she was forced to take a step back. "Excuse me?"

"Finn has been seriously slacking on selecting the musical entertainment," Allison explained. "Running into you today, it's like a Godsend! If you could do us that favor, it would be amazing and a complete relief. You'd be compensated, obviously."

She felt cornered and her eyes darted from Finn to Allison. How was she supposed to perform at the wedding she was hell-bent on preventing?

"I don't think that's such a good idea," Finn interjected.

"I'll do it," Rachel said. What better way to sabotage a wedding, than by doing it from the inside? "I mean, what are _friends _for, right?"

"Perfect!" Allison said clapping her hands together. "Do you know _Ave Maria_?"

"Sure, but that's an odd song choice for a reception," Rachel said adjusting her shopping basket, having become increasingly heavy over the course of this conversation.

"For the ceremony, of course! Finn nixed my idea for the string quartet because it was too costly and an organ by itself is so depressing. Don't you think? Your vocals would be a perfect balance."

"Definitely," Rachel said absently. She couldn't help but picture watching Allison walk down the aisle towards her future husband. The man that she herself had always pictured spending the rest of her life with. Pushing the impossible thought of failure aside, she shook her head. "Well I've got to get going."

"Great, we'll stay in touch," Allison said offering a polite wave. "Finn's got your number, I assume."

"Right, yes," Finn said, obviously having checked out of the conversation, probably in order to prevent his head from exploding. "Unless it's changed."

"Still the same," she said dumbly as if she'd really go through the trouble of erasing her entire existence to avoid him.

"Rachel wait," the blonde took a few steps forward to catch her arm. "Next Sunday, we're having a bridal shower. Nothing too big, just the usual champagne and games. Some of Finn's friends from glee club will be there so you should definitely come; you know to show our gratitude." She scribbled an address on a slip of paper and handed it to her. "It starts at 2:30; I hope you can make it."

Rachel's eyes scanned the slip of paper as if it were written in mandarin before lifting her gaze to her oblivious enemy. "I'll try," she said politely.

_That would be the day_, she thought to herself as she tucked herself into the far grocery line.

"Hello all, I'm Rachel Berry and I've come to reclaim her fiancé."

**...**

**Reviews are forever and ever appreciated (as well as Every Degrassi Ever marathons may they last forever)...**

**More soon...  
**


	3. Friend is a Four Letter Word

**Author's Note: **Thank you kindly to those who left feedback for the first chapter. How exciting were the Golden Globes? So excited for Mr. Colfer and his pure adorableness! The SAG awards is the last show to carry me through this excrutiating hiatus, until then I'll be listening to the 30-second preview of Cory singing _She's Not There_ on repeat. Now for my first _FAQ_: **Naiema**, don't worry, I just have a fantasy of Chris Colfer and Lea Michele playing best buds in a romantic comedy, outside of that reference there will be no intentional parallels to _My Best Friend's Wedding._ **Katie-Lou Rose**, yes Rachel is being a bit selfish but we'll see Finn having to do some growing up too... **ritagarcia **and **sandrawfg** the roller coaster of Finn and Rachel's relationship will gradually be revealed. Sometimes breakups are more complicated than who cheated on who worse (*cough take note Ryan, Brad and Ian cough*)... Hope you enjoy the next part. Chapter title comes from the Cake song because Cake is like one of my favorite bands.

* * *

**Chapter Two: **Friend is a Four Letter Word _When You Spell It Incorrectly_

Finn dipped a knife into the jar of mayonnaise and retrieved it with a heaping scoop to drop onto the awaiting slice of bread. It had been impossibly quiet since returning from the grocery store and the silence on the car ride home was no picnic either. He snuck a glance across the kitchen island at Allison who was carefully preparing a salad, going so far as to measure the salad dressing with a tablespoon.

Pursing his lips, he dropped his gaze back to his sandwich and reached for another scoop of mayo before Allison startled him with a gasp. "Finn! Are you serious?" She marched around the island and snapped the knife from him. "Do you know how terrible this stuff is for you?" Taking the piece of bread to the sink she began scrapping the delicious spread onto the knife and flicking it down the drain. "You can't keep on eating this way if you want to fit into your tux for the wedding. You promised to drop ten pounds before the ceremony and Kurt ordered your pants accordingly."

Finn frowned. "But I'm hungry."

"You won't even live till thirty if you keep clogging your arteries with this stuff," she said nearly gagging when she got drop on her finger.

_Yeah right,_ Finn thought, he couldn't live another ten minutes without the tangy awesomeness of mayo.

Flipping on the sink she washed the offending slimy smear from her hands and let out a heavy sigh. "I swear Finn, sometimes I feel like I'm the only one putting any energy into the most important day of our lives. Even the _one_ thing you were in charge of I had to take care of. I mean really, if we hadn't run into that friend of yours people would have thought they were attending a deaf ceremony."

Finn wasn't necessarily the most confrontational person in the world and took this moment to finally address what had been troubling him. "Yeah," he flinched. "About that. I just think it might be weird if we had Rachel sing at our wedding."

The stream of water abruptly stopped with a _whoosh_.

"Why would it?" Allison asked and crossed the room to tend back to her own lunch.

He dropped his shoulders, tilting his head as nonchalantly as possibly. "Well because we kind of went out for a while," he shrugged.

She froze, "What?" She was caught off guard and began shaking her head like it would help her comprehend it more quickly. "Why didn't you say anything?"

"It was hard to get a word in," he explained. "I mean you basically invited her on our honeymoon."

She placed two very annoyed hands on her hips, "This is no time to joke Finn! It's humiliating!"

"It's okay," Finn said. He considered this his perfect out and hoped to tie up the conflict as quickly and neatly as possible. "I'll just call her and explain. She'll understand."

Allison held up a halting hand. "No, no, it's fine," she said and took a few calming breaths. He snapped his fingers in defeat. "It's no big deal. So you dated. It's not like she's Quinn or something. Why get so upset?"

He couldn't help but laugh. "What?"

She lifted her eyebrows as if to reveal an obvious secret. "You know, your high school sweetheart."

"Quinn wasn't my high school _whatever_," he shivered. Not because he hated Quinn or anything, but because he hated stupid relationship titles. Besides, he could never understand why Allison was always bringing Quinn up as if he were in love with her or something. "We only dated for a couple of months sophomore year."

She furrowed her eyebrows. "The one that didn't have your baby?"

"Yeah," he nodded.

"But there's a girl," she said, shaking an accusing finger at him. "The one that Kurt is always alluding to like she meant something."

Finn assumed that _alluding_ meant _I will rip your head off if you tell me that there is 'a girl' in a gruesome bloodbath_ and decided to trudge carefully. "Well… um…" he said and balled his hand into a fist in hopes of grasping the right words from the air. "That was Rachel…" he said. "It was kind of serious." He flinched. Total fail on his part.

"How serious?" She demanded.

He didn't like talking about Rachel. It was a topic that he'd become an expert at skirting. Whenever a song came on the radio that reminded him of her (which thanks to three years of glee club was like, all of them), he could dive across the console and change the station in less than 0.75 seconds. If the city of New York (or the state for that matter) was ever brought up in casual conversation, he could steer the topic to his favorite type of cheese in only two sentences. And whenever Allison bought a pair of socks that rode up higher than six inches up her calves, he stealthily would crop them to a more suitable length.

"We were together for like five years."

"Five years?" She shrieked.

"Kind of, I mean we broke up a couple of times so it was hard to keep track," he offered. Anniversaries were a total pain because she counted _all of them_, but he knew better than to say that out loud.

She silently fumed, staring at her hands before being struck with an awful thought. "Did you buy this for _her_?" She accused, holding up her hand and gesturing towards the sparkle on her finger.

"What? No!" He went on the defense, "I went to Jared's like you told me to."

Her eyes narrowed to slits, "You were with her all that time and you never bought a ring for her?"

"You're being crazy!" He shouted, waving his arm to draw attention to the obvious "insaneness" that stood before him.

"Tell me!"

"I never _bought_ a ring, okay?" He flinched, only slightly guilty. He knew he wasn't lying, but he knew he wasn't telling the truth either. "I've only bought one for you."

Her eyes began to swell with a glossy sheen. "I'm sorry." Allison bowed her head and shut her eyes tightly. "Don't you see? You were with her for a quarter of your life and you've barely been with me for a year!" She placed her hands on the counter to steady herself but kept her gaze on the floor. "How could you not tell me about her?"

Finn pressed his lips together and shook his head. "I didn't see the point." He rounded the counter and placed an affectionate hand on her back. "She was out of my life before I met you and hasn't been a part since."

Her wide green eyes looked up at him shyly and a small smile tugged at her lips. "And there's no one else?" She asked.

Finn scrunched his freckled nose and rested his chin on her shoulder. "Well, Santana Lopez took my virginity when I was sixteen, and I had my first kiss at a boy/girl party in the eighth grade with Kathy Kinner, and she had something in her braces and it was totally gross." She giggled and he grinned triumphantly. "I'll call Rachel; let her know we found someone else."

She seemed to consider this for a long moment before lifting her chin proudly. "No," she said, standing tall and pushing Finn away from his intimate stance. "I'm not going to be the type of girl who gets intimidated by someone's romantic past. Cancelling now will make me seem jealous or petty."

Finn cringed. He didn't understand why women always had to turn things into a competition or some sort of test. Even eight years into the dating game, he'd yet to figure it out. "I'm sure she'll understand."

She approached him sweetly and began to adjust the collar of his tee shirt. "If you're prepared to spend the rest of your life with me, neither one of our pasts should matter." Snaking her arms around his neck she leaned on her toes to kiss his nose. "And when I walk down that aisle, a typhoon could take place in that church and the only thing you should remember is how beautiful I looked in my dress and how happy you are to be with me."

…

Rachel pushed a straw into the lid of her grape smoothie and brought the tip to her lips for a quick relief from the summer heat. She slid her sunglasses up the bridge of her nose to protect her gaze from the afternoon sun as she made her way down Main Street. It had been some time since she had been in Lima for the summer, not since her fathers had moved, and her usual strategy for escaping the summer heat (a dip in her pool) was no longer available.

In fact, there wasn't much to do in Lima at all, she realized. She wasn't the most social girl in town growing up and spent most her days at home, posting MySpace videos or watching musicals with her dads. Even when she began dating Finn, they spent most of their dates at her place because not many restaurants catered to her dietary restrictions and there were only so many times that they could go bowling.

Pulling the fallen strap of her red tank top back over her shoulder, she lifted the notepad she held in her other hand to review her list. In her preparations as a wedding singer, she had devised a list of romantic songs to perform for the lucky couple to get a better sense of their tastes. A list that she found was the perfect combination of tunes to showcase the love and devotion the groom should feel towards their ex-girlfriend. Taking another sip from her smoothie she reconsidered the ordering of her set list.

Perhaps _Faithfully_ was a little too desperate to open with, although Rachel was never one for subtlety, Finn knew her too well and would be out the door before she could utter the first line of the song. No, she would have to establish some sort of nostalgia before bringing in the perfect closer. She pondered this for a moment as she trained the straw between her teeth. The band Journey was important to them and they needed a new anthem to declare their love. Balancing the smoothie cup awkwardly against her chest she took out her pen and scribbled _Separate Ways_ at the top of her list.

"Rachel?" She looked up from her notepad and had to dip her sunglasses to the tip of her nose to get a better look at the woman who called her name. "Rachel is that you?"

"Tina?" She said with a bright grin.

Tina took the last few steps that separated them. "I heard you were in town but I didn't believe it," she pulled her into a friendly hug, which caught Rachel off guard. "How are you?"

"Amazing," she said tightly. "The show, New York, everything is just incredible. You must come visit!"

Tina considered this for a moment with the tilt of the head. "What are you doing _here_ then?"

Rachel pressed her lips together and reached out to grab a wisp of Tina's hair. "Look at you, your hair is all one color!"

She laughed shyly and twisted a strand of hair around her fingers. "I know, that whole punk rock look was so silly, wasn't it?" Her hair was again its natural shade and her usual dark Victorian blouse had been replaced with a bright yellow baby doll tank over cut off shorts.

"Well I couldn't speak with regards to high school fashion, although I still consider myself quite a pioneer," she said with a deprecating smirk.

"It's just so crazy to see you again," Tina said throwing her hands up for emphasis. "We all figured the second you made it big in New York you'd never set foot in Lima again."

Rachel shrugged her shoulders, "Well I wasn't planning on it."

"I'm guessing this might have something to do with a certain recent announcement," Tina said and smiled at her knowingly.

She hadn't realized that she was so transparent. "If you're referring to Finn, I can neither confirm nor deny the accusation," she said before bowing her head to drink from her smoothie.

"Listen," Tina said. "There's this thing we do, the girls of glee, well I guess it's mainly just me and Mercedes and Quinn," she seemed to recount. "Anyway, over the summer when we're home from school we get together every other Friday for dinner. You know to gossip about McKinley's best _where are they nows_ and recount the glory days of glee."

"Oh," Rachel lifted her eyebrows in surprise. She had been in Lima the first summer after college and didn't remember any reunion invitations. Not that she had ever been particularly close with any of the girls of glee, but she always considered Tina and Mercedes to be her friends.

"You should come," she insisted. "It'd be great to catch up. We'd all love to hear about Broadway!"

"Yeah," Rachel's expression fell but Tina didn't seem to notice. "Definitely!"

"I'll see you on Friday then," Tina said giving Rachel's arm a squeeze before heading back on her way. "Breadstix, eight o'clock," she called over her shoulder.

Rachel had an added bounce to her step at the excitement of her first opportunity at female bonding as she made her way back to Puck's apartment building. She hadn't seen him since before her trip to the grocery store the morning before and was curious if that was his usual routine or if he was actively trying to avoid her.

He was lounging in a wife beater and sweat pants, his eyes glued to the television screen while he was engaged in some archaic video game. "Where were you?" He grunted, not even shifting his gaze.

"I went for a walk," she explained. "Where have you been?" She countered.

"Out," he said simply.

Rachel opened the kitchen cabinet she herself had designated as _her_ shelf. Narrowing her eyes she pushed aside the various boxes of food. She could have sworn she bought…

"I ate all those pita bread things," Puck announced from the couch.

She frowned, "That's okay," she chirped because after all, she was a guest.

"And I ran out of milk this morning so I finished your soy bean stuff."

She grinned tightly. "Guess I'll just have to go back to the store then." Looking around his dining room she noticed something was missing. "Where are those flowers I brought for you?"

Puck lowered his eyebrows, his eyes still locked on the screen. "Was I supposed to keep those?"

Rachel scoffed. "They were for you to look at and to brighten up the room and…" she lowered her voice, "to make your apartment smell less like feet."

"Oh, sorry," he shrugged. "I brought them with me to the bar. Made it look like I got stood up and a whole lot of ladies came to make the Puckster feel all better."

"Well that's lovely," she forced a smile. Rachel crossed the room and took a seat beside him. Her eyes settled on the myriad of animated violence and she immediately grew bored. The only time she had ever played a video game was after New Directions lost Nationals during junior year all because Jesse St James was inexplicably a "celebrity alumni" judge. Finn had told her that vaporizing space aliens always made him feel better, and it had, but kissing him until she felt dizzy made her feel even better.

"I saw Finn, yesterday," she said off handedly. "He was with Allison."

Puck unleashed a sea of bullets across a worn down shack, sending limbs flying. A zombie appeared from the bottom of the screen and he flipped his rifle to knock its head off with the butt. "I heard," he groaned when a swarm of zombies overtook him. "I saw Finn last night and he chewed me out for not giving him the heads up that you were in town."

"Sorry," she frowned. "I didn't mean to cause any conflicts for you."

Puck rolled his eyes, "Please, it's Finn, he's totally over it."

"Oh," she said absently. She knew he hadn't meant anything by it, but it sort of struck a chord. Finn wasn't always the most expressive person and generally pushed feelings aside when he didn't like them. It was the safest way for him to avoid conflicts, which he did like the plague. She didn't want him to be _over it_ though. She wanted him to be agonizing at her re-arrival into his life; she wanted to see that he still cared.

"Do you want to play?" Puck asked holding out the game controller.

She eyed the object as if it were a semi automatic. "No thank you," she said. "Noah, can I ask you something?"

He had already turned his attention back to the television and battling mutant zombies. "If this is chick talk, I'm not listening," he said dryly.

"Do you think it was a mistake?" She wondered. "For me to come back?"

"Yes."

She bowed her head and nodded in understanding. "Because Finn is in love with her, isn't he?"

"No, because you're annoying and this couch is uncomfortable as hell to sleep on," he said. "What do you think you're going to get out of this? That you and Finn are going to run off to New York together? Finn's here, he's Lima, we all are. When Moses found the Promise Land, he didn't turn around and go back to Egypt."

"That's because he died," Rachel said slowly.

Puck considered this for a moment. "Oh," he said. "Whatever, sorry _The Ten Commandments _is a really long movie. The point is Finn's got a life here, he not going to drop everything and follow your ass around, no matter how good it looks in those super short skirts."

Rachel's eyes narrowed to slits and she stood to her feet with as much contempt as she could muster. "Just because you're too afraid to live to you potential doesn't mean Finn is too. Settling at twenty-two is a mistake and it's appalling that nobody seems to recognize this. Maybe if everyone in this town weren't languishing in mediocrity instead of actually exerting their talents, the term _Lima Loser_ would finally go extinct." With that she lifted her chin and performed a proper storm off.

Puck scoffed loudly before she could make it to the bedroom. "Get off your high horse, _princess_."

Rachel struggled with her urgent need to get the last word but compromised that by slamming the door loudly enough she could still win. It wasn't her fault that Puck didn't go to college and decided to just become a rent-a-cop at the Lima Mall. At least she went places, for a while at least.

She dug through her laptop bag and fished out the small booklet, grinning sadly as she read the word "PLAYBILL" across the bright yellow banner. Flipping through the pages she landed on the "WHO'S WHO IN THE CAST" section.

"_**Rachel Berry**__ (Lilli Vanessi) is making her Broadway debut. Hailing from Ohio, she toured in the role of Lilli with the Midwest National Company before making the jump to the Broadway stage. She would like to thank her loving fathers for pushing her to succeed so that she could achieve her best, and to Finn. Don't stop believing, my love." _

She had thought that she could have them both back then. Now she wasn't so sure.

…

Finn nearly tripped up the stairs as he tried to leap up them two at a time. He took a brief moment to catch his breath before stumbling toward the front door. He lifted his hand into a fist to knock, but was met with air when the door swung open.

"Finn," Blaine acknowledged with a rather confused expression. Taking a sip from the iced tea he nursed in his hand, he took a step to the side to welcome Finn in. "We weren't expecting you."

"Yeah," Finn said absently and dried his sweaty palms against his shorts. "Sorry, I should have called first." His eyes scanned the always perfectly organized apartment, looking for any sign of his step-brother. The dining room table was set with formal place settings, the kind that confused him because the glasses and plates were so close to your neighbors and he was always paranoid about using the wrong one, and the entire apartment smelled suspiciously of pork. "Am I interrupting something?"

Kurt appeared from the kitchen, adorned in matching oven mitts. "I knew I heard someone lurching around out there. And when there's lurching there's Finn Hudson."

Finn looked down at his feet and shrugged.

"Dad and Carole are coming over for dinner," Kurt explained, slipping off his oven mitts. "You should stay."

"Yeah?" Finn said tucking his hands into his pockets.

Kurt gave Blaine a look and he wordlessly took the hint. "I'll go add another setting to the table," Blaine said, lifting his glass as if giving a toast. Finn admired how well they seemed to play off one another, in that finishing each other's sentences kind of way.

"So did you _finally_ settle on a musical act?" Kurt teased with his hands on his hips.

"Something like that…" he cringed.

"Tell me," Kurt said and clasped his hands in anticipation. "Was it the mariachi band? Elvis impersonator? Did you find a homeless Justin Bieber outside the bowling alley and offer him a clean pair of shoes in exchange of a rousing rendition of 'Baby'?"

"Nah, none of those," he bowed his head sheepishly. "Look, I came over because… well…" Finn bounced anxiously on his heels until he was about to burst. "Did you know Rachel was in town?" He said as casually as if asking for the time.

Kurt, who had moved to the living room to mindlessly adjust picture frames and artistic trinkets, froze. "Berry?" He said, lifting a finger to rub his temple.

"Yeah," Finn knitted his eyebrows in confusion, as if there were any other Rachel. "I saw her at Kroger yesterday."

His stepbrother groaned with a dramatic eye roll, "Of course she was there."

Finn eyed him suspiciously as he stalked towards him. "You knew, didn't you?" He didn't have to wait for a confirmation. Once again everyone was playing a game of _hide the truth from Finn_ also known by the charming name of _let Finn get hit by a bus while half the town cackles at his misfortunes._ "Unbelievable," he shouted and threw his hands in the air. "Is there some unspoken rule? Like a _never tell Finn_ clot or something?"

"Clause," Kurt corrected timidly, hiding his lips behind his hand before his brother could attack him some more.

"That's what I meant," he brushed off with the wave of a hand.

"Am I missing something?" Blaine asked as he stepped towards the table wearily with an armful of dinnerware.

"Rachel's back," Kurt explained.

Blaine cocked his head curiously and opened his mouth to speak, his eyes a mix of amusement and terror. "_Rachel,_ Rachel?" _Exactly,_ Finn wanted to exclaim, at least Blaine knew what he was talking about. "I'll go open another bottle of wine," he suggested. "…or three."

"So Rachel's in town," Kurt shrugged casually. "What's the big deal, it's not like you're still in love with her."

"_Allison_ met her," he added.

"Again, no big deal."

Finn wasn't sure if Kurt realized how bad this was. Because it was epically bad and he didn't seem to be properly freaking out yet. "She _knows_ about Rachel now."

"A hurdle that was inevitable to cross."

"She invited her to sing at our wedding," he finished.

Kurt shook his head vigorously. "I knew I should have driven her back to New York myself." Moving back to the kitchen with a record pace, Kurt tended to the sides he was preparing. "You're going have to man up and talk to Rachel because she is _not_ singing at that wedding."

Finn sighed and followed after him. "Don't you think I tried that already?"

Kurt opened the refrigerator and began piling various ingredients onto the counter.

"Allison has gone totally girl-crazy," he shrugged.

"Vegetables, platter, you," Kurt instructed with a few very pointed points.

Finn sheepishly slid the plastic dish of vegetables towards his end of the counter and began spreading them over the decorative platter. He popped a carrot into his mouth and said through the chews, "She's like testing me or something. To make sure I'm serious about her, I guess."

Kurt sneered, "You'd think the ring on her finger would be enough."

"I know, right?" Finn said popping another carrot into his mouth.

"Vegetables, _platter_," he reprimanded. "I just can't believe Rachel, I mean the nerve!"

"Come on, she was caught completely off guard," Finn defended.

"I'd be confused too if I wondered into a grocery store _500 miles_ away from my apartment," said Kurt with an incredulous chuckle.

He hadn't thought of it that way. "It's not like she was planning on sabotaging the wedding though, right?"

"You've met Rachel Berry, correct? Lover of pleated miniskirts and animal print sweaters? Master manipulator with her melodramatic grace?" Kurt stared at him blankly before shaking his head. "You're far too trusting Finn. I swear; if you were in a horror movie you'd be the first to die _every time._"

"It's over," he said popping the lid off the vegetable dip. "We broke up like forever ago and she totally checked out of the relationship a long time before that. If anything she's looking for closure."

"If that's what you'd like to tell yourself," Kurt snipped.

"Don't you see how tough this is for me, though?" He whined. "If I fire Rachel then Allison gets hurt and if I don't then Rachel has to _sing_ at my _wedding_."

"You know, I think they're on to something," Kurt said mockingly. "I'll get to incorporating some more pink into the ceremony and will be sure to dress Rachel in something white because when she gets her way, it'll all be easier for _her_ to walk down the aisle instead. All I'll need are the names and addresses of her closest family members so I can send them an invitation."

Finn glared. "That's not funny."

"No it's not," Kurt agreed. "That's why you need to locate your spine and quit being such a coward. Fire Rachel, do you hear me?" He held up a hand to spell it out slowly, "_Fire her._"

"Fire who?"

The two brothers whipped around to see that Burt and Carole now stood in the doorway with a pleasantly amused Blaine.

"Mom, hey," Finn said as if he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Fire who?" She repeated. "Somebody from the tire shop?" She threw a concerned direction in Burt's direction, who merely shrugged in confusion.

"No, no," he stammered. He didn't want to bring up Rachel in front of his mother. She was already pretty vocal about her disapproval of him marrying so young, if he brought Rachel into the equation he'd hear a whole lot of _"maybe you shouldn't close that door just yet_" or something like "_you never seemed pressured with her, maybe that's saying something._" He was getting sick of having to defend himself all the time.

"We were just talking about the flower girl, she's awful," he explained.

His mother looked horrified, "That's your cousin, Finn!"

Kurt laughed politely and put a gentle hand on Finn's shoulder. "He meant the _florist_, obviously. You know dear Finn here and his poetic verbiage. She couldn't get sunflowers, which is unpardonable because they're completely in season!"

"Yeah," Finn nodded absently in agreement, "what he said. So not cool."

"Sounds like it to me," Burt added with the same amount of devotion.

"Oh," Carole said, suddenly at ease with the situation. "Finn, honey, I didn't know you would be at dinner. Where's Allison?"

"She's, uh," he had no idea. It's not like they kept constant tabs on each other. Was this one of those things that he was supposed to invite her to, even though it was totally impromptu? "She couldn't make it."

"That's too bad," she said in a tone of forced politeness.

"Speaking of which," Finn said lifting his hand to scratch behind his ear. "Allison keeps on bugging me about this. Are you going to her shower thing next week, she says you haven't responded to the invitation."

Carole bit her lip and shrugged. "I told you already honey; I have to work that day."

Finn rocked his head from side to side because he hated to instigate things, especially about things he really didn't care too much about. "Yeah, but you missed the engagement shower too, she kind of thinks you hate her."

"I'm sorry Finn," she said holding a surprised hand to her lips. "I can't just drop everything to go to a silly party celebrating a wedding that I'm not crazy about attending."

Kurt and Burt shifted uncomfortably as Blaine backed away slowly towards the freedom of the living room. Lucky bastard. This wasn't a new argument; in fact it occurred on a weekly basis.

Finn folded his arms across his chest defiantly. "I love her mom."

"I know you do sweetheart," Carole said softly, crossing the kitchen and placing a hand on her son's cheek. "And I think she's lovely, I really do. I just think that rushing into this whole thing is a mistake."

"You and Burt rushed into it, you weren't even together as long as me and Allison before you got married," he countered.

"We were adults," she said with a sigh. "Love is different when you've already established your life and your family."

Finn wasn't finished; he had another ace in his pocket. "Well you and dad were younger when you got hitched."

"He was about to be deployed!" She exclaimed. "If you want to be with her that's great. I just don't see what the hurry is to settle down."

Finn frowned and turned his face away. "I got to finish this platter," he mumbled and threw a handful of vegetables onto the platter with the gusto of an eight year old about to be sent to timeout.

Glancing up he saw his mother throw her hands in the air and storm out of the kitchen. He hated disappointing his mother, he really did, but this was something he had to do for himself. His breakup with Rachel was really tough on him and the only way that he could really move on from the whole thing was to fully commit to someone new. Someone who was on his level, someone who wouldn't expect anything too much from him and most importantly someone who would never leave.

**...**

**Again, if you like it don't forget to review. It's like my muse; I tear up like Lea Michele watching Chris Colfer accept a Golden Globe, that's how much I love it.  
**


	4. I Want to Know What Love Is

**Author's Note:** You would _not_ believe the week I had. Sorry for the delayed update, but a snowstorm that hit the North East last week completely ruined my weekend, which prevented me from writing. Let's just say a snowplow ripped my meter box off the side of my house... it was DELIGHTFUL! Anyway, thank you for the kind reviews, I can not emphasis enough how much I love hearing feedback, especially when people totally predict plot points (although I warn you, I'm not going all Ryan Murphy on you, I have this thing outlined and there is now veering off course!) and big welcome to **JannP** from my _Dawson's Creek_ days *waves*! I must warn you I wrote most of this while sitting through the Glee marathon on Oxygen so there were random moments of disgust and utter squeeage towards both Finn and Rachel because my season 2 love for them has been like a roller coaster. Let's hope the first few episode from the hiatus don't kill the fandom *shudder*

* * *

**Chapter Three: **I Want to Know What Love Is _So I Stop Screwing it Up_

Rachel lifted her glass of Merlot and had to lean half her body across the table to reach the center. Breadstix was packed, as usual, and the dull chatter from the tables around her nearly drowned out any conversation that was occurring at her table.

"To the last and greatest summer in Lima," Tina announced, tipping her own glass forward before they all clinked their industrial strength wine goblets.

Rachel sat back in her chair and took a healthy sip. She still wasn't completely comfortable with joining this dinner ritual and couldn't help but feel like an outsider even after Mercedes had hugged her in greeting and Quinn had complimented her dress in a genuine way.

"Speak for yourself, Miss Boston Globe Intern," Mercedes said setting her glass back onto the table. "While you're fetching people coffee in the name of journalism, I'll be moping around here, waiting for my record deal."

Tina laughed, "Yeah in between hopping continents doing missionary work to save the world. I would still call that quite the success."

Mercedes was never one to pass up a compliment and grinned with pseudo bashfulness. "More so than Quinn," she teased. "She's going to be in school for the next ten years!"

Quinn rolled her eyes. "That's because I'm getting my PhD."

"I thought you were going to be a lawyer," Rachel said, finally making her way into the conversation.

"I was," she said lifting her wine glass to her lips to take another sip. "I was going to fight the injustices of female inequality but then I realized that was what everyone was expecting. So I decided that instead of being known as some bitch who nags about the same rules established centuries beforehand to push for woman's rights, _their _words, not mine, I could show what women were made of by making amazing advances in the sciences with the respect and support of my peers."

"Respect?" Mercedes giggled. "Isn't there a blog dedicated to you called _There's a Hot Girl in My Major_?"

Quinn blushed, "Okay, I admit it; some of my colleagues may be a bit intimidated by me." She rested her chin in her hand and grinned wistfully. "I kind of like it though."

Mercedes and Tina rolled their eyes dramatically while Rachel could only look on with restrained amusement, almost as if she were only overhearing the conversation. "Hmm, I never would have expected that from the former Head Cheerio," Tina said tapping her chin thoughtfully.

Quinn reached for a breadstick and broke off one of the stale ends to hurl at her mocking friends.

Tina flicked away the ammunition before turning her grin to Rachel. "So Rachel, how was _Kiss Me, Kate_? Tell us everything!"

Rachel set her glass of wine on the table and sat tall in her seat. "It was remarkable!" She said. "At first I was only supposed to be the understudy but when the original Lilli's flu like symptoms turned into a full fledged pregnancy she pulled out of the project and I got the role." She paused for a moment, maybe that wasn't the most miraculous tale of rags to riches.

"We were going to road trip out to see it," Mercedes said. "But right before we were going to order tickets, we heard it had closed."

"It was a limited engagement," she explained, her gaze falling to the crumb covered tablecloth. A meek smile tugged on her lips and she had to shake away the sting that swelled in her eyes. She missed the stage. The feeling of accomplishment and importance. The only other time she had felt that way was with Finn. "The show went on tour but once I was in New York, I couldn't leave, so I chose to stay behind and wait for the next great role."

"Well for your next show make sure you get us some tickets so we don't miss it again," Mercedes insisted.

"Of course," she said quickly and reached for her wine for a bit of relief. _If there ever is one,_ she wanted to say.

The waiter returned with an amused grin and placed a fancy looking cocktail in front of Quinn. "This is from the gentlemen over there," he said gesturing across the restaurant towards a table that contained a group of chuckling "gentlemen."

Quinn inspected the drink for a moment before flashing a glance towards her newest suitors. "Excuse me for a moment," she said, picking up her purse and slipping out of her seat.

Rachel's gaze followed the blonde across the restaurant as she approached their table. "I love when she does this," Mercedes beamed with excitement.

Rachel narrowed her eyes, curious as to how Quinn the most irritatingly beautiful girl she had ever known being hit on by some attractive men could be deemed as interesting. That was until Quinn reached into her purse, handed the man a ten dollar bill and said, "Thank you for the drink, I think this should cover it including the tip. For the record though," she said placing her hands against the table and leaning towards provocatively, "I can order for myself."

"Burn," Mercedes said rocking her fist in the air.

Quinn turned on her heels and strut back towards their table, her hips swaying with a swaggering beat as she sank back into her seat.

"Not a love connection?" Mercedes said through giggles.

"It's insulting," Quinn said pushing the drink towards Mercedes. "Why would he just assume that I'm unavailable? That I'm looking for a hookup at Breadstix of all places."

"You poor, poor thing," Tina smirked. "Must everyone love you?"

"I can think of a few people not in the Quinn Fabray fan club," Mercedes said and took a sip from her newly acquired drink. "Although now that Rachel's back in town maybe you won't be Enemy Number One to the future Misses Hudson anymore."

Rachel's heart tightened in her chest and she had to bow her head to hide the visible flinch. Finn's inevitable nuptials were a reality that she had faced, but her heart hadn't exactly gotten the memo quite yet.

"Sorry, Rachel," Mercedes cringed and bashfully hid her face behind her drink glass.

"It's fine," she forced a tight smile. "I'm happy for him, truly."

"I can't believe she's so threatened by me because of Finn of all reasons," Quinn rolled her eyes. "She went to college for her M.R.S. degree for goodness sake. She should be intimidated by Rachel and me because of our drive and passion and ability to be self sufficient, not because of the man we dated."

"Consider yourself lucky," Tina sat back in her seat and folded her arms across her chest. "I'm starting to wish I was one of Finn's despised exes so I didn't have to go to all these awful wedding events. There's only so much pink and doilies a person can take in their life."

Rachel narrowed her eyes; there was _never_ enough pink or doilies.

"I've seen her relatives more this summer than I've seen mine in ten years," Mercedes countered. "On Sunday when you two are enjoying a quiet morning eating brunch in your PJs, please, think of us."

Rachel frowned. "Actually, I was invited," she shrugged.

"You can't be serious," Quinn said, her eyebrows curiously arching. "I'm pretty sure she filed a fifty foot restraining order to keep me away from Finn and I had his best friend's baby. I guess the old saying of keeping your friends close, and your enemies closer is true."

"She seems nice," she offered. Rachel was never one to judge, her fathers taught her to be open minded, and although her gut told her to hate everything about Allison Potter simply for catching Finn's eye, she was willing to give Allison's kindness a chance. Not that that wouldn't stop her from sabotaging the pending nuptials. When Rachel Berry had her eye on something, nothing would get in her way. "In fact, I'm singing at the wedding."

Mercedes had mistakenly chosen that moment to take a sip from her drink and at the revelation, spit it out in a mist across the table. "Kurt has _a lot_ of explaining to do. This is like the gossip scoop of the century."

"H-how could you?" Tina ironically stuttered. "It's Finn. Finn's wedding. Finn's wedding to not _you._"

"Finn is very dear to me," she explained. "If this is what he truly wants, I'm always there to support him."

Quinn let out a laugh. "You are so transparent. This is part of some plan, it always is." She leaned forward onto her elbows and cocked her head inquisitively. "So what's your angle? Weaseling into the wedding party right as little Miss Fiancée turns into a raging bridezilla? You come off as the level minded and reasonable alternative, only question is can you get the wedding canceled while Finn can still get his deposit back, right?"

"I would never…" Rachel's jaw was left ajar. She hadn't realized that her scheming had become so predictable, but seeing as Quinn had been a repeat target, she guessed some of her strategies could use a bit of retuning.

Tina leaned in conspiratorially and bit back her bottom lip to hide her playful smile. "Well you didn't hear this from me, but I wouldn't give up hope just yet."

Mercedes cast a warning gaze in Tina's direction but couldn't pass up the opportunity to spice up the latest scandal to hit Lima. "Kurt is going to kill us for telling you this."

"Tell her what?" Quinn said perking up, moving her eyes between the two ladies in cahoots.

"According to our sources," Tina began. "Finn's mom is just as determined to stop this wedding as Rachel is."

"Kurt said that she'd rather him marry Quinn, and she _hates_ Quinn," Mercedes added.

"Hey!" Quinn interjected.

Mercedes flashed Quinn a look that screamed _please_ before returning to her story. "She said that at least Quinn made him feel bad for just settling with things. Apparently Allison is happy with Finn working at the tire store for the rest of his life and Misses Hummel knows that that's not what Finn wants out of life."

"Does _she_ know you're back?" Tina asked, placing an excited hand over Rachel's. "She'd be thrilled to see you."

Rachel took a thoughtful sip from her wine. She hadn't considered her already strong bond with the Hudson-Hummel clan. Carole had always loved her and they had even vacationed together on multiple occasions. "I haven't seen her," she said with a grin as she set down her wine. "I'll have to catch up at the shower."

…

Finn sat back in the driver's seat and allowed for his head to fall against the headrest with a thud. His eyes stayed trained on the apartment complex window that had remained dark even though the sun had long since set. He frowned at the apparent vacancy and debated whether the window he had put under surveillance was the correct one. He was fairly certain that he could recognize the tree in front of Puck's apartment in any state of consciousness, especially since he had spent countless inebriated nights of hanging from its branches, or peeing on it, or vomiting on it.

Reaching for his iPod that had been discarded on the dash, he scrolled through his playlists, his thumb hovering on the one cleverly titled "Death Metal." He bit his lower lip between his teeth and looked out both windows as if _he _were the one being watched before selecting the list.

The car was silent for a long moment before the warm sound of her voice filled the cabin. Finn let out an easy breath and melted into his seat as his eyes slipped shut. There was something about her voice that reached something inside of him; something he had never realized was there. Everything was so intense with her, and while he had never felt better than when he was with her, he had never felt worse than when she was gone. Yet there was something so magnetic about her, which was why he found himself listening to her six year old MySpace recordings while waiting outside of her window like some sort of perverted freak. All while his fiancée sat at home picking out the perfect napkin texture for their wedding.

The parking lot flashed with light as a car pulled into a spot in the row behind him. Glancing in the rearview mirror he recognized it as Rachel's powder pink Mini-Coop that she had received as a Sweet Sixteen gift. In a panic, he fumbled with his seat belt; his heart racing as he spilled out of the car to chase after her.

"Rachel, hey," he called out, jogging to catch up with her at the apartment complex entrance.

Rachel had to narrow her eyes to distinguish him before her lips curled into a surprised smile. "Finn?" She said. "What are you doing here? I don't think Puck is home."

"No, no, he isn't," he said nervously, digging his hands into his pockets. "It's ladies night at the pub downtown, he never misses it. I uh, I actually wanted to talk to you."

"Oh," she said slowly as they reached Puck's apartment. She unlocked the door and pushed it open, "Come in."

"I wanted to apologize for last week," he began, following her in and moving to the couch to make himself comfortable. "Look, you don't have to do the wedding gig, in fact, I insist that you don't."

Rachel was never one to be slowed down even by a simple conversation and kept herself busy by floating from room to room, putting Finn on edge. She had always been unpredictable and since he hadn't seen her in over a year, his Rachel-taming skills had grown rusty. "Don't be silly," she called from the bedroom. "As one of your oldest and dearest _friends_," she spat, "it's an honor."

"I told her about us," he explained.

She crept carefully down the hall with a frown. "Oh," she said.

"I don't know why I didn't just say it before. Sometimes my brain and my mouth don't like click, you know?"

"If you don't want me to sing Finn, then I won't," she said.

He shrugged, "Allison still wants you to."

"Is that what you want though?"

"It's her day, right?" He chuckled.

She smiled sadly before sinking onto the couch beside him. "I found these," she explained setting a folder on her lap and opening it to reveal a stack of old show choir programs, all in mint condition.

"In Puck's apartment?" Finn questioned, because it would be the perfect material to rag on his best friend about later.

"No," she said absently flipping through a few programs. "They were in my computer bag; I must have forgotten they were there."

He narrowed his eyes. This was definitely a trap, he quickly determined.

"This one is my favorite," she said handing him a booklet titled _2011 Show Choir Midwest Regionals Championship_.

He didn't even have to open it to know why she liked this one best but did so anyway to humor her. "Rachel Hudson and Finn Berry," he read off the members list with a grin.

They had still been broken up when the typo was made and everyone had anticipated for Rachel to throw an epic tantrum on how important it was for _her_ name to be spelled correctly in the show choir program, especially when all the reporters would be writing of how angelic her solo was about the wrong person. Instead she pulled out a pad of stickers from her purse and placed a gold star next to New Directions' name. "Perfect," she had said. And when they had won, she was the first that he had reached for, enveloping her into a hug and holding her as if all the bad stuff that had happened between them never existed. "Thank you for living up to the Berry name," she had whispered in his ear.

"At least they got it right for Nationals," she said brightly.

Finn nodded absently, his eyes still trained on the program, "Yeah."

Rachel shifted uneasily on the couch before she pulled out a small box from her sweater pocket. "I also found this," she said handing it to him. "I figured you might want it back."

He could feel a tingling down his spine, the kind that worked its way through his entire body and made his neck tighten whenever something really deep and emotional was about to happen. He cleared the sudden thickness in his throat and adverted his gaze away from the jewelry box. "You should keep it," he said.

She set the box on the coffee table as if it were on fire and folded her hands in her lap. "It's the ring your father gave to your mom," she explained. "You should give it to Allison."

He kept his eyes trained on the floor and forced his mouth into a lopsided grin. "Nah," he said with a wave of the hand. "She said if it's less than a karat, it's not even worth it." Not that he had offered her his mother's ring or anything, seeing as he didn't have it, he just never thought she'd be that sentimental about the whole thing. "Which is silly, because I don't make that much money so the only big rock I could afford had all these specks and stuff in it, so it doesn't even sparkle as much as my mom's ring does. Isn't that the point of diamonds, to be all pretty and sparkly?"

She nodded, "Sometimes great things come in smaller packages."

He finally allowed himself to look at her, their brown eyes locking in that way that made his heart beat ridiculously fast. "Yeah," he said, feeling dizzy in her gaze.

Her eyes sparkled, alive with excitement. They were impossibly close, he suddenly realized, especially now that his eyes had drifted to her lips. He could kiss her so easily if he wanted to. He shook his head to break himself from her trance bowing his head to keep his attention on the safety of the floor.

"Why are you marrying her?" Her soft voice broke the uncomfortable silence.

Finn shut his eyes tightly. "Because I never feel like I'm not enough for her."

"I never felt that way," her voice was tiny, completely different from the boldness Rachel usually held.

He couldn't let her do this. He couldn't let _himself_ do this. "You left," he said, "and I couldn't catch up."

She was silent for a long moment before she finally said. "I'm not going back to New York."

"What?" He jumped from the couch to his feet. She _had _to go back to New York. The only way his pending marriage was going to work was if Rachel was far, far away in New York. "You have to, that's all you've ever wanted."

"It's not," she shook her head. "Once the show ended things didn't go as well as I had hoped. Getting _Kiss Me, Kate_ had been so simple I thought the next break would be just as easy."

He scoffed, "The show ended like six months ago."

"Four," she corrected. "Four months without a role, it's humiliating!"

He couldn't believe how ridiculous she sounded. Rachel had always been the best at everything and whenever things didn't go exactly her way she'd panic. "You're just not singing the right songs," he offered. "Maybe try that one from the Madonna movie you really like."

"I can't," she immediately dismissed. "The second I begin singing a song selection the casting directors start whispering 'I hope she does realize there are composers that _aren't_ Andrew Lloyd Webber'."

Finn furrowed his eyebrows; because no matter how hard she tried to educate him, he never quite absorbed all the musical theater trivia. "What about Barbra, you rock at that."

"They told me that they weren't going to be doing a _Funny Girl_ revival no matter how hard I tried to make it a reality." She dropped her head in her hands. "And that's not even the half of it. I ran into Jesse St James at an audition… for the same role."

The name automatically made his fist clench even after six years. Shaking the urge to punch something, he was pleased to have a Broadway reference he could actually make with confidence. "Cool, what was it like _Rocky Horror_ or something?"

"No," she shouted. She was getting riled up again and shot off the couch to pace about the room. "It was Maureen from _Rent_. They were so inspired by his audition that they changed the role to _Martin_. Do you realize the implications? It turns a beautiful and complex show about limitless boundaries of sexuality into a gender reversed version for a stage rendition of _Chasing Amy_!"

"I thought that play was about AIDS," Finn said trying to keep up with her fast speed

"It's insulting."

"What are you going to do here?" He asked with a shrug. Because besides turning his life into a chaotic upheaval, he couldn't imagine what Rachel would do in Lima to pass the time.

"I don't know," she said lifting a hand to tap her chin. "Has Mister Schuester retired yet, maybe I could take his place as director of New Direction's. Then the club will finally be forced to listen to my brilliant ideas," she added under her breath.

"No, he's only like thirty-five." Finn tucked his hands into his pockets and scuffed his foot against the floor. "I just don't see why you'd want to come back here. There's not really a lot going on for you."

She stopped her rapid movement about the room and lifted her long lashes. "There's you."

"It doesn't seem like you, that's all," he said in an attempt to steer the conversation towards a safer place. "To give up like that."

She glared at him bitterly. "What about you Finn?" She spat. "Is this honestly what you wanted out of life? Did you really go to school for four years to work at a tire shop? I thought you had at least some shred of ambition."

Finn narrowed his eyes. "That's not true. I've got my own place, I've got a job, I'm getting married. It's not like I'm giving up on my dreams by staying in this cow town."

Rachel folded her arms across her chest, "That's because you don't have any dreams, Finn." He felt like he had been punched in the stomach. The truth hurt. "When you went to school what did you major in."

Finn frowned. "I was undeclared." In fact, he waited for the absolute last quarter to declare and went with Communications with a minor in Music because he had all the right credits to graduate for that degree.

"And what did you want to do after school?" She continued to prod.

He had wandered around endless career fairs for all the free pens and stuff but he hadn't actually paid attention to what kind of jobs they were offering. "My mom suggested I work at the tire shop until I figured out what I wanted to do."

"And where did you want to live?"

He had looked through a couple real estate magazines but they made his head hurt, so he just watched _House Hunters_ instead. Unfortunately they never had a Lima episode. "Allison picked out an apartment for me."

"Do you recognize the pattern, Finn?" She said placing her hands on her hips. He had no words and the frustration made him want to kick a chair over. "Sure my dreams have taken a detour, but at least I have goals. You? You just sit idly by and let the current take you wherever it decides to flow." She closed the distance between them, reaching out a hand to place on his arm. "There's nothing wrong with wanting something."

He didn't pull away. He didn't do anything. He just stood there, staring at the white wall in front of him. He didn't know what he wanted, he never did. When he was in high school he wanted easy things, like to be popular, or to have sex, or for the cafeteria to serve juicy medium rare steaks at lunch. He wasn't ready to deal with the important adult decisions yet. In high school when he made a bad decision he would get grounded or detention or really, really sick. As an adult when people made bad decisions they ended up homeless or in jail or dead. Sure getting married was an important adult decision, but it wasn't permanent, not with divorce being such an easy alternative. Finn pressed his lips together; maybe he shouldn't be considering divorce until _after_ the wedding.

But on a deep, personal level, he had never really had any important goals. When he was little he wanted to be a soldier like his dad and then a fire fighter… and then an astronaut… but he never _wanted_ to be a clothing designer like Kurt or to be a Broadway star like Rachel. He just wanted to make everyone around him happy, like the guy who went door to door delivering giant million dollar checks. Maybe they were hiring.

"What do you want, Finn?" Rachel asked, pulling him from his thoughts.

He dropped his gaze, a smile tugging at his lips as he remembered just how short Rachel was. He reached out to catch a wisp of her hair with his finger and tucked the chestnut lock behind her ear. Her eyes lifted to meet his, the glossy orbs searching his as her lips parted in anticipation. His heart was beating so hard he could hear it in his ears and he couldn't help but feel like he was in high school again.

_You can kiss me if you want to._

He bowed his head, until her breath was warm against his lips.

_Buzz._

Finn jumped back with a gasp as his phone buzzed again from his pocket.

"Sorry," he muttered, fishing his phone from his pocket and suddenly struck with a moment of clarity. "Sorry, I've got to go."

He recognized the number and flinched before flipping the phone open.

"Get out of there now!" Kurt's stern voice shouted from the other end.

Finn hurried towards the door, almost tripping over his own limbs on the way out.

"What?" He said flashing Rachel a tight, helpless, confused (a myriad of emotions) grin before ducking out of the apartment. "How did you know I was here?" He asked dropping his voice to a whisper.

"I'm at your apartment, you have the 2012 Nationals competition open on your laptop and it's paused on a frame of Rachel's face," Kurt explained dryly. "Obviously with this cryptic evidence I took it straight to the CIA, who after days of analysis suggested this might be about a girl. You need to get out of there before you do something you can't take back."

"It's fine," Finn said running a hand through his hair. "Nothing happened, I swear, we were just talking."

Kurt chuckled knowingly, "Will you break the news to Allison that the wedding is canceled or should I?"

"It's not like that," he refuted. "Rachel's going to sing at the wedding and then she's going to go back to New York and everything's going to go back to normal."

"Well that sounds definitive for once," Kurt replied with an amused chirp.

Finn nodded as he shut his phone, marching determinedly towards his car. He was done being wishy washy and ready to start wanting things. His first goal was to get Rachel out of Lima before she turned into a directionless loser like him.

**...**

**Happy Super Bowl-age and yay for new episodes this week! Don't forget to review, I don't want to sound desperate, but it really encourages me to crank out chapters when I know people are reading.**


	5. Everything I Do, I Do It for Me

**Author's Note: **So yeah, about that Valentine's Day episode... it didn't happen here... like at all. That's another story that has to tackle that mess, but I have faith that it'll all turn out okay in the end... I hope. Luckily Rachel and Kurt's new found love will carry me through Finn's awful story arc and will prevent me from shouting "She made you think she was pregnant with your child for months... how could you?" at the screen every five seconds. Hopefully this story will cheer everyone up!

* * *

**Chapter Four:** Everything I Do, I Do It for _Me_

Rachel made her way through the throngs of people that seemed to gather along the narrow passage that led from the kitchen to the living room. She thought she had spotted Tina mustering over the hors d'ouevres and had only realized her mistake halfway through the gridlock of traffic. At this point she was fairly certain a rush hour subway car was less populated than this "small gathering."

She was already less than enthusiastic about attending the gathering but felt it would be sending the wrong message if she had not made an appearance. The day before she has spent in complete panic mode. Between dissecting every minute detail of her run in with Finn and agonizing over the pending shower, she had barely made the time to consider her finances. She had just maxed out her bank account to pay rent on her vacant New York apartment and without an income, wouldn't be able to cover the next month's rent.

Without relying on her fathers, who would have requested for her to come stay with them immediately, she had taken it upon herself to find employment… at Breadstix. She had spent the past several months as a waitress in New York, so she had plenty of experiences, but surprisingly she landed the job with the help of a glowing recommendation from Brittany, Breadstix's star dishwasher.

"This is going to be so much fun," Brittany had said. "You get to eat all the leftover Alfredo and used gum you want."

Rachel looked helplessly at the empty space on the other side of the hallway. She hadn't realized how wealthy Allison's family was. Their house was right on the lake and nearly twice the size as her old home in Lima, although the layout left much to be desired for the purpose of entertaining. Everything was bright and summery; the rooms all stale and white to accentuate its modern aspects with well placed bowls of lemons and flowers to bring a pop of color. An army of waiters in black bowties swarmed through the sea of party goers and one stopped to press a glass of champagne into Rachel's hand. She smiled in thanks, quickly downing it to dull the anxiety before another waiter immediately appeared to replenish her glass.

"Rachel!" She heard her name called from the other side of the screen door that separated the kitchen from the outdoor patio.

She smiled in relief at the sight of Tina and Mercedes and pushed her way towards freedom, her grin fading when she saw Kurt was with them.

"Ladies," she addressed them before turning her eyes to the third member. "Kurt," she said less enthusiastically.

"Now is there some sort of epic traffic jam on every road between Lima and New York that I've missed on the news?" He asked tipping his head thoughtfully. "Because I thought you were leaving town over a week ago."

She smirked innocently, "I ran into a bit of a detour."

"And quite the destructive one at that," he added. "A wedding singer, Rachel? Really? With your notoriety, you'd think a Midwestern wedding would be beneath you."

"I could never turn down a friend in need," she said holding a shocked hand over her chest. "I'm sure you're just jealous that you didn't come up with the idea of showcasing your talents first. I'll tell you what though, I haven't finalized my set list quite yet, I'm sure there are some fabulous duets that I could work in for the second act."

"Don't tempt me," he said holding up a warning finger. "Although I already have a dedicated playlist for the perfect songs in our range." Kurt shook his head, "You're evil. Do you know that?"

Rachel simply grinned, her tongue teasingly peeking through her teeth before lifting the champagne flute to her lips, "This is just delicious." Of all the residents in Lima, Kurt was the only person she considered as her equal. If only he would wise up and join her team, although it would make her scheming much less interesting.

"Get used to it," Mercedes said dully. "This is nothing compared to the engagement party."

"It's nice," Rachel said thoughtfully, her eyes lazily scanning the crowds of people scattered across the lawn. "Not as impressive as some of the after parties the theatre company used to throw in New York, but I wouldn't expect the extravagance here, it's such a different setting."

"Maybe we would know if someone had invited us to enjoy some of her star treatment," Tina said and placed a hand on her hip for emphasis.

"Next time, I promise," Rachel said sweetly.

Kurt was onto her. "And when would that be?"

"Soon," she said; her smile fading.

Kurt's nose scrunched in its usual _you're forgetting to add the important part, aren't you _way. "A word," he said and reached for her hand to pull her away.

"Ooo, you're in trouble!" Mercedes teased.

Rachel threw a helpless wave over her shoulder before turning a glare to her _friend._ "May I help you?"

"I had an enlightening chat with my brother yesterday about a chance encounter he had with a former flame."

She felt a blush tint her cheeks as the memories of the other night flooded her thoughts. Their undeniable chemistry was so easy to fall into, despite the current circumstances.

"Perfect," she beamed. "You've finally come to your senses." She linked her arm with his as they strolled across the garden. "Now chat with me, I want every grueling detail of all his profound and passionate thoughts."

"He doesn't love you anymore," Kurt said gravely, adding a little _sucks for you _shrug.

"What?" She snapped. Surely their encounter had been left open ended, but she did _not_ see it going in that direction. "That's impossible!" She nearly shouted, but quickly lowered her voice when she resisted the urge to cause a scene. "Did he tell you that he almost kissed me?"

"He told me everything," he sighed.

"Which means that you know that couldn't possibly be true!" She insisted. "You're only saying that because…" she trailed off and frowned. He was trying to push her away. To cut all ties so she wouldn't have a reason to stay. It was how he always dealt with complex situations. To distance himself so things were left open ended without him having to get his hands dirty. He had even sent a messenger to do his dirty work, the coward.

"I'm just questioning whether this whole conquest of yours is really about Finn," Kurt continued.

Rachel folded her arms across her chest. "What is that supposed to mean."

"Well our chat sort of led to a rather starling and quite disastrous revelation." Narrowing his eyes, he placed his hands on his hips, "Why didn't you tell me about New York?"

Rachel blinked a few times, the wheels in her brain calculating the best way to turn this conversation back in her favor. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Finn said that you're not going back, that you sounded kind of depressed," Kurt offered.

Her eyes instinctively dropped and she bowed her head to hide the obvious sting. She wouldn't classify herself as depressed, at least she had never thought of it that way. At this point she only thought of life as a thorough disappointment.

"You should have called me if you were having trouble," Kurt said and pulled her into a tight hug. "You know I'm always there for you, eight hour sleep schedule be damned."

"Everything is fine," Rachel denied, pushing out of his embrace. "I'm just reevaluating my priorities."

"Your priority is to remain famous and fabulous so that I have a slew of 'my friend who lives in New York' stories to tell at cocktail parties!"

"Who says I can't be famous and fabulous here?" She countered weakly.

Kurt knew her too well and scoffed in response. "You're focusing on something that's in your control. Auditions aren't going your way and Finn's newest life decision gives you a shiny new goal to focus your ambition on." He tipped his head thoughtfully, "This isn't about Finn, this is about you and the destructive things you do when you're feeling desperate."

"If I don't have Broadway, I have nothing," she said sadly. "And if I don't have Finn, I have no one."

"You're not doing this again," he said placing his hands on her shoulders and forcing her to meet his eyes. "You're not going to base your self worth on others. You're Rachel Barbra Berry, remember?"

Kind words and gratuitous compliments usually made her feel better, but there was a void to this praise that she couldn't quite put her finger on.

"Why is it so awful for me to come back here?" She asked, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "And yet we're celebrating Finn cementing his roots in a life of mediocrity."

It was obvious that Kurt hadn't considered this. His eyes widened and his head shook from side to side before his shoulders lifted helplessly. She had made her point.

"I love him," she said. "And I thought that you did too."

With the thought lingering in the air, Rachel allowed Kurt to stew on it for a while, flashing him a defiant smirk before turning back towards the house. She hadn't thought this all the way through, after all Tina and Mercedes were on the other side of the property, sipping champagne while they dipped their toes in the lake. She on the other hand was marching directly into a nightmare.

"Rachel!" She heard a vaguely familiar voice call out. "Rachel over here!" Through the crowd she saw Allison, waving excitedly in hopes of gaining her attention. She'd obviously been enjoying the festivities; at least that's what her rosy cheeks and vacant stare implied. She snapped her fingers and one of her minions immediately presented a flute of champagne, causing her to giggle as the liquid sloshed in her clumsy hands.

Rachel forced a grin and lifted her hand in response. There was no turning back now, she realized as she reluctantly made her way over to the bride to be.

"I'm so glad you could make it," Allison chirped, her green eyes determined to focus to keep her balance.

"You have a lovely home," Rachel replied politely.

"Isn't it?" Allison's voice called out a few decibels louder than necessary. "Have you met everyone?" She asked gesturing towards her gang of perfectly plastic minions. If Rachel had partaken in a few more glasses of champagne she was certain that she would see a squad of Cheerios before her. Allison began reciting a list of names that surprisingly did not all rhyme with Missy and Rachel reached out to politely shake each of their hands. "And this is Rachel," Allison finally presented. "She's going to be singing at our wedding. She was on Broadway, isn't that incredible?"

"Doesn't that suck?" Rachel realized she hadn't actually bothered learning any of the minions' names but the horror that was coming out of the girl's mouth made her glad she hadn't wasted the energy. "I mean working around gay men all the time. It must be impossible to date!"

Rachel's eyebrows quivered. She had a long rehearsed diatribe about jumping to conclusions based on stereotypes and exacerbating the cycle; and how the theatre community included far more members than the ones seen on the stage. Putting on a musical was a lot of hard work and everybody deserved their share of recognition. Instead she did her best to subdue her glare and said, "I get by."

"How did you manage to book a celebrity, Allison?" One of her much wiser minions, Laurie she reminded herself, asked.

"She and Finn used to go out," the blonde explained, "in high school." She paused for a moment and pursed her lips, her gaze turning thoughtful. "And college I guess. Majority rules, right?" She added with a laugh that didn't hide the growing terror in her eyes.

"We grew apart," Rachel offered, suddenly struck with the feeling of guilt. "It's strictly platonic now. I couldn't be happier for the two of you."

"Well that's nice," Laurie said through the uncomfortable grin plastered across her face.

"So you can get his ex-girlfriend to show up to a shower but you still can't manage your mother-in-law?" Another minion spoke up. "She's redefining the term Monster-in-Law, in new and terrifying ways."

Allison rolled her eyes in a grand gesture. "She has to work," she said with biting air quotes. "See if I ever bring her grandkids around to visit the shrew. All while Finn cowers in the corner with his weak 'She really wants to be there' excuses."

"I'm sure she has her reasons," Rachel offered with a shrug.

Allison let the inhibition of the alcohol get the best of her and looked at Rachel snidely. "I'm sure she does."

"And Finn being passive is nothing new," she added helplessly, hoping to turn the attitude of the conversation back to a happier one. "In fact I'm pretty sure he's only jumped to the defense of NFL players when provoked."

"Isn't that an adorable detail?" Allison replied, still on some sort of warpath.

Sensing the growing level of discomfort she grinned tightly. "I'm parched; could I get anyone else a refill?"

She was greeted with a flood of dismissive shakes of the head and thanked her lucky gold stars for the escape hatch that had been offered. Halfway to the patio doors she felt a hand on her shoulder.

"Rachel, wait," Allison said. "I'm sorry if I snapped at you. I'm just really stressed with the wedding plans and the in laws," she took a deep and calming breath. "I didn't mean to take it out on you."

"It's fine, I completely understand," she lied.

"Look I know everyone expects us to hate one another," she began, with a suddenly sober tone. "The blonde versus the brunette? It's like the most iconic romantic archetype."

"Tell me about it," Rachel mumbled, recalling the last blonde she had to battle for Finn's affections.

"But it's such a tired concept, don't you think?" Allison cocked her head and winked, triggering all of Rachel's red flags. "I get that you and Finn have a history, and I respect that. I only hope that you can respect that I'm Finn's future."

"Of course," Rachel said, her eyes carefully trained on her rival. There was something to Allison Potter's swagger that she had not anticipated. A chilling ability to turn things in her favor in the blink of an eye, a trait that Rachel thought only she herself had contained.

Perhaps she had underestimated her competition.

…

Finn scrubbed the last bit of grease and oil from his fingers before wiping his freshly cleaned hands across his dirty slacks to dry them. _Men don't need hand towels_ was a Hummel way that he had fully embraced. Making his way into the waiting room, he spotted his former mentor flipping through a _Jazz Hands_ catalogue.

"Hey Mister Schue, your car's ready," he said with a grin.

"Will," Mister Schuester corrected.

"Right," he said bashfully. It had been four years since he had graduated, but he still couldn't get over calling a teacher by their real name, like they were a real person or something. "I wanted to thank you. We got your wedding gift the other day," he said.

"Hope you didn't open it, that's bad luck," Will replied with a warning eye.

_Crap,_ Finn smiled tightly, "Of course not. I mean we won't need to use that shower radio until after the wedding anyway."

He narrowed his eyes, "Right."

Finn rocked anxiously on his heels. Although Burt had been a father to him for years now, he couldn't help but look up to William Schuester. He was the first adult to see him as anything but a dumb jock, besides his mom at least and he was the only teacher who had really cared about his future.

Tucking his hands into his pockets, Finn took a deep breath. "Mister…" he flinched and quickly caught himself. "Can I ask you something?"

"You know you always can," Will said, closing his magazine and tucking it into his briefcase.

Finn sank into the chair beside him and lifted an inquisitive shoulder. "When you graduated from high school, did you _want_ to be a Spanish teacher?"

Will's forehead creased as he considered it for a long moment. "Well when I first started school I majored in music, but Terri pointed out that it wasn't the most reliable major. She wanted me to be an accountant because she thought that that would get me the salary to support her lifestyle, but we compromised and I went into teaching."

"Do you ever regret settling?" Finn prodded.

"Is there something wrong, Finn?" He asked, his voice laced with concern. "Did something happen with Allison?"

Finn frowned for the briefest of moments before pressing his lips together tightly. "Did you know Rachel was back in town?"

"Rachel, really?" Will chuckled as realization hit him. "Is that the problem?"

"No, no," he dismissed; at least he didn't think it was. "She's just thinking about giving up Broadway and that has me thinking a lot about important stuff."

"Wait? Giving up Broadway, why?" Will said, blinking incredulously.

"I don't know," Finn shrugged. "Because she can't land a lead or something, you know how Rachel is." If anyone knew the complexities of Rachel Berry as well as Finn did, it was certainly Will Schuester. He had dealt with Rachel's volatile relationship within the glee club for years. "It's just a phase. She'll go back and win like a billion Tony's, and forget all about how crazy she was acting. She always does."

Will smiled warmly, "Yeah, probably."

"But she sort of made a good point…" he trailed off. "Remember that time I quit the glee club because the coach made it conflict with football? You said something about letting other people make decisions for you and letting that define you." He paused, his eyes tracing the waiting room, what his life had become. "I guess I feel like maybe I'm still doing that."

"Growing up is tough," he said with a slow nod of understanding. "Sometimes choices aren't very easy."

"Yeah," Finn sighed. "Well you said that I was a lot like you and I was wondering how you did it. How you started you know, doing stuff for yourself."

Will reached out and placed a comforting hand on Finn's shoulder. "When someone starts to tell you to do something or to act a certain way and your first thought is 'no,'" he began. "Then say it. If you're in a place that you don't want to be," he said gesturing around the tire shop. "Then move out of it. You're still young Finn; your future is only a blank slate if you let it be."

Finn's mind seemed to dissolve into a series of checklists, every choice he had made since joining New Directions ticking through his memory like the breakdown of scores that ran across the bottom of the screen on ESPN. All the times that he pushed Rachel away because she wasn't popular like him, or letting Santana Lopez sabotage his life instead of telling her to shove it, or applying to Ohio State because they had the better theatre program for Rachel even though he knew he would never be able to get on the football team. And after Rachel dropped out it only got worse. He didn't know what times he was supposed to call her, or how often he was supposed to visit and so he called at all the wrong times and all they ever did was fight about it. And when the calls became less frequent, he listened to all of his stupid friends: "dump her, you don't need her" or "if she really loved you, she'd be there" and instead of pushing himself to be a part of her life, he felt like he wasn't good enough, that she was ashamed of him, so he blamed her and waited for her to come back to him. She didn't. Both were too stubborn to compromise.

After things ended with Rachel, and Allison came into his life everything was so simple. There were no expectations (besides the whole weight thing), Lima was a cool place to live and he could skate through life without having to try so hard all the time.

But it wasn't as rewarding.

It was like in high school, whenever the team won a game (which was rare) it was cool, but it wasn't life changing. After he joined glee though, every victory in football, every good score on a test, and every time they placed in a singing competition felt _amazing._ He missed feeling that way. He missed feeling anything.

Glee had been something that he had done for himself. He hadn't done that in a while.

Finn moved behind the counter to retrieve Mister Shuester's keys and extended them to his former teacher, "Thanks Mist… Will."

Will grinned and twirled the key ring around his finger. "And Finn, if you see Rachel again," he said as he made his way to the door. "Tell her I said hello."

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. Maybe it was okay to be selfish sometimes in one of those self bettering kind of ways. He'd been selfish plenty of times before, but usually for petty insignificant things, like fulfilling perverted male fantasies of having two cheerleaders at the same time, which he didn't even get. He never thought about the concept of being selfish to be happy. Maybe that's what Rachel was always talking about when he was telling him to follow his dreams.

The bell on the front door rang again and Finn peered up to see Blaine entering. "Lunchtime?" He suggested, holding up a brown paper bag.

_Make choices for you_, he reminded himself. "Definitely," he said eagerly. "Kurt's in back, I'll go get him."

Finn led Blaine into the break room and pulled a couple of sodas out of the fridge, popping off the tab to take a healthy sip. "What'd you bring today?"

Blaine unloaded the paper bag. "Meatball sub for me," his mouth was starting to water, "turkey on wheat no mayo for Kurt," he was less intrigued, "and for you," Blaine continued with an evil smirk, "garden salad with the dressing on the side."

Finn groaned and pushed a chair across the room with his foot. _If your first thought is to say 'no', then say it._ He pursed his lips, "I'll give you twenty bucks for the sub."

Blaine lifted an intrigued brow, "Fighting the system now are we?"

"Don't tell anyone," he replied tightly.

"Take it," Blaine said sliding the sub across the table with a chuckle. "It'll be our little secret."

Kurt entered the break room with a dramatic sigh, "I hate spending my summers balancing the books, it's like banging my head against a rock, I swear."

"At least you get paid," Blaine offered. "Most summer internships are just for the experience like it's a privilege to offer free services. At least that's what City Hall tells me every week when they neglect to hand me a paycheck."

"Well when I graduate, and become an elite Event Coordinator I'm getting an office with a window so I can actually see the sun again."

"You should buy a lot of sunscreen then," Finn teased. "Since you're allergic to sunlight."

"Very funny, sweet brother of mine," he bit back. "My moisturizer has a built in sun block to protect me from UV rays. And before you mock, remind me exactly how you prevent the grease monkey from penetrating your fingernails?" He lifted one of Finn's hands and cringed.

He frowned, "We have a weekly manicure date, which is totally okay for dudes to do because it has the word _man_ in it."

"That's what I thought," Kurt replied smugly.

Finn unwrapped his meatball sub and stared at it for a long moment. This was a huge moment in his life, the moment that he stopped letting others define who he was. He felt like there should be a plaque or a cake or at least a really deep and meaningful conversation to commemorate the event.

"Can I ask you guys something?"

Kurt and Blaine looked up from their lunch. "Sure," Kurt said reluctantly.

"Do you ever feel like a loser?" He asked. "For not making it out of Lima?"

"What are you talking about?" Kurt laughed. "Blaine's going to be a lawyer and I'm caring for my sick father. It's not exactly something to be ashamed of."

"My mom's a nurse. It's not like you _have_ to live five minutes away," Finn countered.

Kurt's eyes narrowed in contemplation, but there was a flicker in his blue eyes as if he had realized something beyond the conversation at hand. "Well that's not the only reason. Blaine's father cut him off, so he's supporting himself through school, we can't really afford to go out of state."

"Oh," he frowned. "Is it because of… you know," he pointed between the two of them.

Blaine scoffed, "Of course not, my dad knew I was gay a long time before Kurt came along. It was because I wanted to be a public defender. He didn't want me wasting my time helping poor people."

"I guess you're right," Finn said, flashing a smile that didn't reach his eyes. "I mean I'm the heir to the Tire Kingdom, so I guess that's pretty cool."

Kurt and Blaine exchanged a look the screamed _What?_

"You know because I'm older than Kurt," Finn elaborated.

"If that's what you want," Kurt offered. "You know Dad loves having you work here, but he wouldn't be heartbroken if you left. Is there something else you picture yourself doing?"

He pressed his lips together, his mind moving so fast he was afraid his brain would pop out of his eyes. When he pictured his future, what he wanted out of life it was like a haze of nothingness. "Maybe," he said. "I don't know." He looked down at his lunch. He still hadn't touched it. Taking a determined breath he lifted the meatball sub, eating half of it in a single bite. It felt invigorating, a medley of emotions he hadn't felt in a while. "Do you think we could be like a singing tire shop?" Finn said through a mouthful of hot cheese. "I think I want to do something with music."

Kurt nodded politely a few times but was unable to hide the mix of horror and amusement at his brother's suggestion, "I'll run it by dad, I'm sure he'll love it." After a moment though his smile faded, his expression turning somber before he pushed his sandwich aside. "Would you excuse me for a moment," he said reaching for his phone and rising from his seat.

Finn arched a brow at Blaine who only shrugged absently. He didn't know the number that Kurt dialed, or if it had anything to do with him. All he heard was Kurt's concerned tone, his voice hushed as if he were keeping some sort of vital secret.

"I think you may be right."

**...**

**Reviews are like pretty cool. They're pretty cool.  
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	6. I'll Be Alright Without You

**Author's Note: **Sorry for the long delay! I'm trying to get this story completely squared away. I have it all outlined so so long as the writing bug doesn't hit a wall, it should flow fairly smoothly. I may rework a few things based on how the second half of the season went (cough, cough _New York,_ cough), but surprisingly, I think the characterizations kind of stuck (you know, Rachel being a crazy stalker and Finn being fairly indecisive when faced with a fairly straight forward decision... so thank you RIB for making my character arcs believable! It was a frustrating journey but currently, much appreciated) Anyway thanks for sticking around, and remember don't forget to review! There aren't enough gifs to express the rush of seeing what the reader thinks!**  
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**Chapter Five: **I'll Be Alright Without You..._ Er With You._**  
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Finn slid into the booth, a grin plastered across his face as he anxiously drummed his fingers against the edge of the table. He loved Breadstix. But more importantly, he loved going to dinner with his parents because it meant that he didn't have to foot the bill. Free Breadstix was definitely in his list of top ten favorite things.

If today weren't awesome enough though, it had been his mom who had organized this double date. Granted he was pretty sure Burt was a pushing factor (they were at Breadstix after all), but he thought it was really cool of his mom to taken him and Allison out to dinner. Like maybe she was trying to like her or something.

"Your server will be right with you," the hostess said as she distributed the menus before flashing a tired smile on her way back to the podium. Breadstix was probably the busiest (and perhaps only) restaurant in town and tonight was no exception.

"Tell me," Allison said a tone of disgust dripping from her voice as she delicately opened her menu at arm's length. "What's the appeal of this establishment again?"

Finn draped his arm across her shoulders and leaned forward to get a better vantage point over her menu. "Here," he said and pointed to a particular section of interest. "Bottomless pasta bowls," his eyes lit up with an eager lift of the brow, as if Christmas was insignificant when compared to limitless carbohydrates at $9.99 a pop.

Allison twitched as she forced a pleasant expression across her face which didn't go unnoticed by Finn. "Isn't that lovely?" She said tightly.

"Don't worry, they've got healthy stuff too," Finn offered, the hopeful glimmer of free Breadstix quickly extinguishing due to her cynicism. "Like the _Three Cheese Caesar Salad._"

"For an extra three bucks they'll throw some fried shrimp on top!" Burt added with a chuckle from across the booth.

Carole slapped his arm affectionately. "None for you," she said sternly. "Your heart is still on probation."

"Five years and I'm still on probation," he said turning his pleading eyes on Allison. "Everyone deserves to live a little every now and then even if it's going to kill them, right?"

"I don't know about that," Allison said halfheartedly and quickly turned her attention back to her menu. She had never been a shy person, but for some reason she was always on edge around his family and that really bugged him. He knew that if she'd just relax that things wouldn't be so awkward between her and his mom, in fact he was pretty sure they could even like each other if they actually tried.

Not that he was one to talk. He was always so nervous around Allison's dad that he wouldn't be able to tell a person what color his eyes were, even if the guy was standing right in front of him at the time.

"Good evening," the waitress chirped in a far too energized voice for your average Breadstix server. If Finn hadn't known any better he would have thought the perky ball of fire was Rachel Berry. "Finn?" It was.

Finn looked up from his menu, to see a chipper Rachel in the customary white blouse and black skirt attire donned by the Breadstix wait staff. The hem of her skirt naturally fell about three inches shorter than any other waitress in the room and when he caught a glimpse of her nametag he could see a shiny gold star accenting her name.

He cleared his throat, his lips parting to speak but with no words formed he was left gaping like a fool. His eyes darted to his mother who was already beaming with excitement and then to Allison who was rolling her eyes in such a dramatic fashion he feared she might faint. He realized then that even free Breadstix wasn't enough for the damage control this night was going to require.

"Hey, Rach!" He said with as much enthusiasm he could muster. "I didn't know you worked here."

"I just started," she explained, her smile faltering as she seemed to sense his discomfort. "Mister and Misses Hummel, it's so lovely to see you again!" She said turning her attention to his parents.

"Finn!" His mother practically shrieked. "You didn't tell me Rachel was back in town."

"Oh, really?" Finn shrugged casually before bowing his head to stare vacantly at his menu, "I thought I did."

"Allison have you met Rachel?" She asked and reached for Rachel's hand to grip it tightly with excitement.

"Of course," Allison acknowledged Rachel briefly with a weak smile.

"How long have you been back? How long are you staying? How have you been?" His mom went rapid fire on the questions.

"Carole, relax," Burt spoke up and reached out to squeeze her hand like that contained the mute button or something. "At least let us get a few drinks before we go into the interrogation."

"Funny you should mention that," Rachel said with a grin as she went into her perfect sales pitch. "We're offering samples of our newest house wines and I just so happen to have a heart healthy red with me," she said presenting the bottle and flashing a wink in Burt's direction.

"You said the magic words," Burt said with a nod, "Did you all hear that, she said the magic words!" He extended his hand towards her in a _give me_ gesture. "If it's what the doctor prescribed, than just leave the whole bottle."

"Not so fast!" She objected playfully, "I'm going to need to see some ID first."

"Careful," he warned. "If I look like a twenty year old, than I'm going to eat like one."

Rachel laughed and for the first time since she had returned, Finn caught a flash of genuine happiness light up her eyes. "Could I get you anything else?"

"Water," Allison said coldly, barely lifting her chin to address her. "With lemon."

Rachel's face sobered at the request, as if it had just occurred to her that this wasn't one of the hundreds of family dinners she had attended in another life. "Right away," she said softly.

"And hurry up," Carole added quickly. "We have a lot of catching up to do."

Rachel hurried off to another table leaving the Hummel-Hudson clan in an awkward silence. Burt reached for the bottle of wine and began to pour himself a glass, letting out an airy whistle to fill the lull.

"I'm surprised you didn't tell your mother about Rachel being in town," Allison began in a casual tone that he couldn't help but sense was strategically calculated to stir up trouble. "She is singing at our wedding after all."

The bottle that Burt had been pouring jilted forward and he nearly tipped over his glass in a grand mess. "Really?" He questioned, turning his delightfully amused eyes to Finn. _That's quite the mess you've gotten yourself in_, he all but communicated through his playful gaze.

"That's interesting," his mother said slowly, drawing out the words as carefully as possible as if _interesting_ meant _the most awkward arrangement I've ever heard of_ in some other language. "I mean since the two of you…" She trailed off and stared at him questioningly knowing full well that the end of her statement could be very dangerous to the course of his relationship.

"Dated," Allison finished, much to his parents' relief. "I think it's sweet that they could remain friends," she said and set her hand atop of his in a far from affectionate manner. "It's almost brother and sisterly."

Finn swallowed the laugh that was about to explode from within him. "I wouldn't say that," he considered out loud causing him to squirm uncomfortably when he realized he would probably have to elaborate on his point. He would never call a girl that he used to have sex with _like a sister_, but he would never point out the fact that he used to have sex with her in front of his fiancée and mother either. Realizing he was between a rock and a hard place he cleared his throat and dropped his gaze to his lap but it was too late, in his peripheral vision he could see that Allison was already glaring daggers at him. _Crap._

"Well that's a sweet idea," Carole offered. "Did you know that Finn and Kurt and their glee club sang at our wedding?" She accepted a glass of wine from Burt and took a sip before continuing. "Finn you sang that song with Rachel from _Beauty and the Beast_, what song was that?"

Finn narrowed his eyes. "Beauty and the Beast," he answered dryly.

"Duh," she laughed with a lace of self deprecation to her voice. "It was adorable because Finn— he's so tall, he was a ten pound baby after all, and Rachel is just so tiny."

"And all this time I thought they were making fun of _me,_" Burt joked.

"You two should do something like that at your reception," his mom suggested. "You and Allison, that is," she amended. "Do you sing Allison?"

"No," she said shyly. On top of that she was 5'10", which wasn't the adorable contrast that his mom was gushing over. Finn flinched, already preparing himself for the disaster that was brewing.

"Well maybe Finn can sing a song with Rachel… I mean Kurt," she quickly corrected herself. "Or he could serenade you. That could be romantic."

"Yeah mom, sure," he said tightly, hoping the topic would be dropped.

Rachel returned with a tray full of waters and passed them around the table. "Now what could I get for you this evening?"

His mom and Burt ordered basic Italian fair before Allison took her turn, her nose still scrunched slightly with repulsion at the menus offerings. "Could I get the Tilapia, grilled instead of baked and no sauces, with the steamed vegetables, but just steamed no butter or anything."

Finn stared longingly at the Bottomless Pasta Bowl on the menu before lifting his lips into a grin. "That sounds great; I'll have the same thing."

Rachel glanced at him suspiciously before scrawling the notes across her pad. "And all those come with soup or salad," she recited.

"Soup," Burt decided.

"Sodium," Rachel warned.

"Salad," he retreated. "But if I find any of that wheat germ crap in there again, I'll know you have my son back there conspiring with you."

"Gross," Finn exclaimed with a chuckle. "Wheat germ was the worst!"

He, his mom and Burt all exchanged a conspiratorial grin at the memory of the vegan and health conscious meal Rachel and Kurt had prepared for their first joint family dinner effort. The three of them had to choke everything down and when Rachel and Kurt had gone upstairs to plan out every detail of their Regionals performance, his mom had whipped up some Hamburger Helper and they ate it right out of the pan like a bunch of savages.

"It's good for you," she lectured by placing her hands on her hips.

"Good for torture," Finn muttered and Burt nodded in agreement leading them in a collective snicker.

"Well I'll have some in mine if you have any," Carole said sweetly as she folded her menu to hand to Rachel.

"Traitor," Burt said offhandedly.

"Tell me Rachel," she said ignoring her husband's comments. "What brings you back to Lima? We were all so proud of you when you made it big in New York."

Rachel hid the frown that crossed her face with a bright smile. "Just taking some time off."

His mom wasn't buying her story and reached out to grab her hand. "Do you have a place to stay?"

"Of course," she dismissed quickly.

"If you need anything," she said dropping her voice to a _Mother's whisper_ (the type that was heavy with concern but all hushed to limit the embarrassment,) "you know we're always there for you."

Finn found himself absently nodding in agreement, because they were family. All of them. Even before his mom and Burt had ever met, the six of them in New Directions had bonded in a forever sort of way. Rachel had always been a part of that but her biggest fear was that she'd only ever be on the outside looking in. Finn had never really experienced the life of a social pariah (being popular and all) but from the first moment she had expressed her loneliness, he had felt this familial all inclusive bond with her. He never wanted her to feel alone again and even now that things were long over between them, he still felt that way as strongly as ever.

Allison on the other hand, was not feeling the love. She kept her head bowed to hide her displeasure, but the steady rise and fall of her shoulders indicated she was holding onto the last threads of self control before unleashing her temper. If there was one thing Finn could identify, it was Allison about to lose her shit.

Suddenly she slid out of the booth and took a deep breath to regain her composure. "If you'd excuse me," she mumbled as she darted towards the door.

Finn watched as the blonde disappeared into the crowd of people that were perpetually congested around the main entrance but found that he was cemented into the booth, unable to move a limb. This was unfolding to be one of those passive aggressive relationship dramas that he had become keenly aware of in high school. There were three obvious outcomes, if he ran after her he'd get the _leave me alone or I'll bite your head off_ treatment, and if he sat there and did nothing, he'd get the _why are you never around when I need you_ guilt trip. He frowned; then of course there was the completely misinterpreted situation that resulted in the: _what is your problem? I was only using the bathroom_ side eye.

Rachel's attention had turned to Allison's path as well and when she turned to meet his eye he waited for the glimmer that sparked whenever they met on the same wavelength. The moment when they could hold their heads high and declare _we can fix this. _And for a brief second it seemed like she was calculating some sort of remedy. But then she stopped and smiled sadly at him. They weren't that kind of team anymore.

"I should put this order in," Rachel said and escaped back towards the kitchen.

Left to deal with matters on his own, Finn pursed his lips with his eyes trained on the front entrance and considered whether he should at least _check_ to see if she was hitch hiking her way home or worst, calling a limo for a very expensive cab ride.

"Finn, why didn't you tell me Rachel was in trouble?" His mom scolded in a harsh whisper.

Finn rolled his eyes, "Because she's not. She's got a couple things that she's working out, but I was already handling it. I didn't tell you because I didn't want you to do this," he explained, gesturing his hands at her as if her blatant favoritism was tangible.

"Excuse me?"

"Let's face it Mom, you hate Allison and you treating Rachel like she was the daughter you always wanted is making it totally obvious."

His mother seemed to consider this for a long moment, a frown etching the corners of her mouth. "You're right," she admitted quietly. "I've been unfair to the both of you and I'm sorry. And I'm going to start making an effort right now. Whatever makes _you _happy makes me happy, all right?"

"Thank you," Finn said, surprised that this argument was going easy for once.

"But Rachel, Sweetie, she's back," she added because it would be impossible not to complicate things. "Are you really going to pretend that that doesn't change things?"

Although the thought had flickered through his mind like a momentary series of "what ifs" he knew where that road led. It was a difficult path with obstacles and tears and heartache. Just because the path with Allison was easier, didn't mean it wasn't the right one.

The crowd around the main entrance parted and through the clearing he could make out Allison's figure, slumped over on one of the benches that framed the door.

"I've got to go check on Allison," he said sliding out of the booth, leaving his mother with a concerned frown.

The sun had just set, leaving a cool breeze to lighten up the thick heat of the humid summer day. Finn hated the summer. It was so suffocatingly hot. Like inescapably so. He always preferred the fall because the air was cool and crisp and he loved the sound of the leaves crunching beneath his feet. Or even the winter, with clean white snow and warm hot chocolate. Or the springtime when the flowers were blooming and everything smelled like Rachel's perfume. Summer was just like a wasted season once you graduated from high school.

Finn dug his hands deeply into the pockets of his cargo shorts as he cocked his head to the side and approached Allison with slow, calculated steps. She kept her eyes trained on the parking lot, her chin quivering as she seemed to run through a mental alphabet of curse words to unleash her frustrations. Finn recoiled when she balled her small hand into a fist. She probably got up to 'E', he could never think of a bad word for that.

"Hey," he said, nudging her shoulder to get her attention.

"Hi," she said softly but didn't turn to look at him.

Finn took a seat beside Allison and swallowed her petite hand within his.

"Are you okay?" He questioned carefully.

She casually batted a tear away before tucking a strand of hair behind her ear as if the gesture would hide the fact that she had been crying. "Yeah, I'm just not feeling very well," she explained. "It must have been something I ate."

Finn frowned, "But we haven't eaten anything yet."

"Right," she flashed a quick smile. "I think I'm just going to go home, if that's okay. You can get a ride, right?"

Even though she hadn't yet made a move to leave, his grip on her hand tightened to encourage her to stay. "I talked to my mom," he said. "I told her that she wasn't being fair to you and she said she was sorry."

Allison looked at him quizzically. A smile dancing at the edges of her lips in a way that said that he had done something right for a change.

"Come on, let's go back inside," he suggested. Rising to his feet, he frowned when he felt resistance on his grasp.

"I can't," she said simply. "Not tonight. Not with her here."

"My mom?" He narrowed his eyes, "Because I told you already, she's going to be cool about us from now on."

"Because of Rachel," she said bluntly.

Finn sighed, loudly, and sat back beside her. "You can't do this," he said. "You're the one who wanted Rachel to be around."

"I know," she frowned. "And none of it's her fault, really. She's been nothing but nice," she rolled her eyes. "Annoyingly so."

Finn grinned because Rachel would probably always have that affect on people.

"It's just seeing her with your parents..." she trailed off. "It was like you were a family. The history's kind of hard to compete with."

"And running away from a family dinner is going to fix that how exactly?" He argued.

"I think we should move in together," she said abruptly. "Tomorrow."

"Okay," Finn said tightly, his eyes widening as he realized that this conflict wasn't being diffused the healthy way. "I think we may be missing the point here."

"The point is that we're lacking the familial intimacy," Allison filled in. "How are we going to bridge the gap between dating to marriage when we live miles apart? I feel so distant to you," she said turning on the bench to face him. "And I think that if we were living in the same apartment, that this Rachel thing wouldn't bother me."

"Or you know, we could _not_ have Rachel sing at our wedding, that may help," he shrugged, because it was pretty obvious to him.

"I wonder if I can book a moving company on such short notice," she said as if he weren't even on the other half of the conversation and began digging for her phone from her purse. "And no, we're not using Puckerman's truck," she cringed. "It's so... gross."

"It's just so sudden," Finn said, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.

"We're getting married in less than a month, it had to happen eventually!"

He frowned. She had a point. But her moving in would make everything real. At this point everything was only some day and when the time comes and nonrefundable deposits. Her actually living in the same apartment as him was always on the horizon, but he had never actually pictured how things would be when it had happened.

"Tomorrow, that is," Finn corrected still trying to understand if the closing of his throat was an overreaction or some sort of medical emergency. "I mean there's so much to do till then. Packing, making room in my closet, finding a better hiding place for all my candy bars..."

"You're right," she stood to her feet. "I need the car keys, I have a lot of things to pack."

"But dinner," he nodded back towards the restaurant.

"There's no time," she refuted. "I'm scheduling the truck for first thing Friday morning." She turned on her heels to face him, her skirt spinning out like some sort of death blade. "Until then you should probably start selling your couches, your mattress, your dresser, your dining room set, your recliner..." she trailed off. "Just toss everything, my stuff is better."

Finn blinked a few times and smiled tightly. "Sounds great!" Rising to his feet he took a few steps back from the crazy. "I'm just going to run in, get our food and let them know we're leaving."

Something had gotten into Allison. Something vaguely familiar and it was really freaking him out. Navigating through the restaurant back towards their table he tried to put his finger on it when he stumbled straight into one of the servers.

"Ah," he recoiled back when he recognized her as Rachel.

"Finn, is everything all right?" She said, her brows knitted in concern. "You weren't at the table and your mom explained everything and you know I'm not _trying _to impose, right?"

He only shook his head a few times completely dumbstruck. Allison was just like Rachel, he realized. Allison was Rachel with Quinn's nose (and eyes and hair). Trying to follow the words that were tumbling out of Rachel's mouth, he began to nod absently. "Totally!"

Rachel narrowed her eyes and took a step closer to lower her voice more intimately. "Are you all right? I mean things were a little tense back there before."

"Allison has decided that it's time to move in," he said casually, as if he weren't completely freaking out over it.

"That makes sense," she said with a frown. "I mean if she's doing it for the right reasons."

"Definitely!"

"Do you need like a Xanax or something? You seem kind of stressed."

"What? No." He shook his head a few times. "I was just coming in to get our food wrapped up to go. You know. Packing and stuff."

"Of course," she said with a sad smile. "If that's what you want."

"Well it's what she wants," he corrected but was confused when Rachel's smile turned hopeful. "I mean with all the moving it's like a second work out so we may actually get to eat like real food this week!"

"I meant in the more grander scheme," she explained. "I mean if you're reluctant to move in with your partner, that could be considered as some sort of warning sign."

Finn felt dizzy again. What was the world coming to when _Rachel_ of all people had become his voice of reason.

"But these sorts of things are supposed to be scary, right?" He reasoned. "But the scarier they are, the more worthwhile they'll be. You know, like horror movies."

"In a good way though," she elaborated. "Like getting on stage to sing for the first time."

For the first time since sliding into the Breadstix booth earlier that evening, Finn felt at ease. Singing and dancing on stage in front of thousands of people _was_ scary. But it was also such an awesome rush. Moving in with Allison was scary too, but when he tried to really think about what it would be like all he saw was mayonnaise going down the drain and smaller meal portions and her really uncomfortable furniture digging into his back while he tried to watch TV.

It still beat the alternative of lying in bed all day with Rachel's MySpace play list blaring while he stared helplessly at the ceiling. He frowned. Not that he had ever done that before. (Or for three months straight for that matter.)

"It's what I want," he said quickly.

"Good then," she lifted her chin and forced a smile. "Let me get your dinner for you then."

Finn offered her one last nod before slipping past her towards his parent's table. He paused for a moment and looked back her way.

He had thought about living with Rachel before. A lot actually. Moving out to New York where they'd live in a too small apartment. They'd huddle around the sink and brush their teeth together every night and they'd eat gross vegan food for dinner and he'd sneak out late at night to eat hot dogs and she'd catch on and start leaving money on the fridge for him.

He sighed. If Allison was so much like Rachel, why didn't he see that kind of future with her.

Pushing the thoughts aside, he moved forward to tell his parents of the news.


	7. Loving, Touching, Squeezing

**A/N:** Gah, sorry I saw I left some notes at the bottom of the last chapter. Sorry if that was confusing. Sometimes I leave notes at the end of the document for lines of dialogue that pop in my mind that I don't want to forget and I forgot to erase them. Anyway. Thanks for the reviews. And thank you especially to JannP, I love constructive feedback because sometimes parts of the fanon I have in my head doesn't quite make it to the page, so it let's me know which parts of the story I need to better flesh out. Again, thank you, thank you!

**Chapter 6: **_Loving, Touching, Squeezing_, Running, Apologizing, Wash, Rinse, Repeat

Finn scooped the last few scraps of pasta onto his fork, resisting the urge to use his fingers to gather up the delicious tangy tomato sauce.

He was on his third helping of never ending pasta (Or fourth. But really who was keeping count?) and anxiously awaiting Rachel's return for his next serving.

It's not like he had planned on spending his Saturday night at Breadstix and it wasn't like he planned on breaking his 2000 calorie a day limit (three helpings ago). He was just bored... and hungry.

After spending an exhausting Friday night and Saturday morning of lugging heavy furniture up the stairs, he was promptly kicked out of the apartment for a house warming party that was labeled "Ladies and Kurt Only." On the bright side, at least his mom had decided to attend. Granted she brought her own box of wine with her, but he was sure she would share... some of it.

He had found himself in Puck's living room playing video games, like any other Saturday night, and that had turned into poker night with Santana and Blaine, and that had turned into Puck realizing he hadn't gone grocery shopping in weeks, and that had led to them eating all the cardboard tasting crackers and weird smelling vegan cheese that didn't melt (no matter how long they nuked it) from Rachel's shelf, which led them here at Breadstix, keeping Rachel company (and his blood sugar up).

"Garcon," Santana said holding up a hand to call for Rachel's attention.

Rachel couldn't tame her glare as she approached with hands planted firmly on her hips. "That's actually the masculine version of waiter," she said, arching a curious brow as she ran through her grammar. "Well waitress, or something."

"Whatever," Santana replied with her patented contemptuous grin. "I found my dish unsatisfactory and would like it sent back to the kitchen. Try better next time."

"You do realize that it's free refills, right?" Rachel said inspecting Santana's cleaned plate.

"And I'll consider paying for the first one when you supply me with a dish that doesn't completely suck, okay?"

Rachel kept her eyes trained on Santana in a way that made Finn fear that Santana could be vaporized at any moment, before breaking into a bright show face. "Right away, ma'am," she said bitingly.

Santana scoffed, "You did _not_ just call me an old lady."

"Age is the last thing I'd be worried about," Rachel continued. "I mean with all the friends you've made in the kitchen this evening alone, I'd be really curious _what_ exactly your cheese is made of."

"She did not just say that," she said holding up a halting hand in Rachel's face.

"Don't worry," Finn broke in, much to Puck's discontent, who was still under the belief that every chick fight that broke out would end in them making out. "This one's on me."

"Wait. This meal is being comped?" Santana said smirking wickedly. "Why am I still drinking cheap beer? Let's break out the imports."

Finn flinched at the sound of "ca-ching" echoing in his ears before taking in a comforting breath. "That's fine," he said tightly. "So long as we can all remember that we were _never_ here."

"Never where?" Santana replied. "I spent the evening eating peeled celery and blending up some of Coach Sylvester's Master Cleanses with my favorite pasty Frankentwenteen."

"So how long exactly do you intend on pretending you don't eat food," Blaine asked nursing his beer. "I mean now that you live together, she's going to know."

"I'm hoping after the ceremony," Finn decided. "When I don't have to fit into rented pants anymore."

"You'd think most of the weight would have come off when she took your balls," Puck said and Finn quickly responded with his best _like haha, not!_ face.

"Is that healthy?" Blaine wandered with his brows knitted in concern.

"1500 calories a day?" Finn replied. "Totally. So long as I don't engage in strenuous activities. Like breathing."

"No," Blaine eyed him carefully. "That you can't be yourself around her?"

"This is just a Classic Finn Relationship," Santana dismissed quickly. "If anyone has a type it's him. Someone who is shrewish and controlling. If he didn't have someone there to tell him what foot to step with next he'd be lurching around in a circle like the first human merry go round."

"Hey!" Finn tried to cut her off.

"Let's review the evidence," she continued. "Quinn Fabray convinced you to father her child without ever having to put out, and turned you into the poster boy for the hot tub contraceptive industry. I convinced you to give me your vir-g-g so I could secure head cheerio and gain complete dominance of the school, which was probably the most equal relationship you've ever had, especially since I settled for White Castle afterward." She leaned across the table. "You're welcome, by the way. And then Berry took whatever street cred you had left and converted it into freak juice all so she could..." Santana shrugged her shoulders completely at a loss. "I don't know, feed her garden gnome friends."

"What?" Blaine asked looking at Finn because apparently they didn't all hang out as often as he thought.

"The way I see it, this Allison girl is like the classic Misses Hudson candidate," Santana continued on with her spotlight. "She plans your meals, although I'm still not entirely convinced you couldn't sustain a society off your Mr. Stay Puft Buddha belly or at least supply an entire summer camp with enough marshmallows for s'mores. And based on the new too tight tees you've been sporting – that on an important note, perpetually makes it look like you're dreaming about your mailman and is rendering me with a constant state of nausea – selects your clothes. And I'm going to go out on an inappropriate limb here and speculate that she's putting out, what? Once or twice a month for your efforts?"

Finn frowned, on a good month.

"That's awful!" Blaine exclaimed looking incredulously at Santana. Turning his attention to Finn, he raised a hopeful brow. "I mean you do love her, right?"

Finn's eyes darted around in a panic. When she put it that way... he shook his head, "Of course!"

To be honest he felt like he was suffocating. Every other second of every day all he could hear was his mother's or Rachel's or Puck's, or now even Santana's voices warning him that he was making a mistake. He _liked_ Allison, he really did. She was the first person who made him feel alive again after Rachel had crushed him and maybe he had latched onto that feeling and made it into a bigger deal than it actually was. Like what was the difference from loving someone and being in love with someone? Was there that huge of a difference that it affected whether or not you could spend the rest of your life with that person?

It's not like _he _was the one who brought up marriage in the first place. He was young enough to know that he had plenty of time to settle down, but it was something that _Allison_ really wanted and he didn't want to lose her the same way he lost Rachel when he couldn't go to New York.

It didn't seem like that big of a deal at the time, but suddenly he felt trapped by it. Like the light at the end of a tunnel that was slowly fading into darkness.

"And that's the sad part," Santana said, bringing her rant to a close.

"I don't see why you want to get married anyway," Puck said flicking his straw wrapper across the table so that it bounced off of Santana's cleavage. "I mean sex with the same woman for the rest of your life? That's so depressing." Tearing off a piece of his napkin he took another shot. "It's like against nature or something. Man was invented to spread his seed!" Puck sat back against the back of the bench and shrugged a shoulder, "And to make out with a ton of hot chicks."

Santana nodded in agreement with a wicked smile.

Blaine had had enough of this and lifted his lips into a hopeful smile. "There are _benefits_ to marriage," he paused, his eyes suddenly distant with a glossy shine as if recounting each benefit with a specific memory. "To wake up every morning next to the same person. To know somebody better than you know yourself. To never feel lonely because you have this connection to this other person even when they're not there."

_A tether_, Finn thought suddenly, his gaze shooting up to find her. She was a few tables over, jotting down a customer's order while she laughed wildly at some joke the old man had made. Her smile was contagious and he could feel his lips lifting into a half grin in response.

"What an awful thing to say," Santana said in disbelief, breaking Finn from his reverie.

Blaine pointedly ignored her. "Besides, studies show that long term monogamous relationships actually extend your lifespan."

"You know what else does," Puck added. "Drinking." He turned to call over his shoulder. "Hey Rachel, bring us more beer and grab the best bottle of tequila off the highest shelf you can reach."

"Sounds like we'll be drinking Dos Manos tonight," Santana said trying not to gag.

Rachel appeared shortly with their order, her dark hair bouncing around her face like out of some sort of movie. Finn looked away. His heart swelling into his throat from just being near her. He couldn't let her have this affect on him again. Nothing good could come of it.

Finn threw back a shot, but because his stomach was so full carbs (in the first time in forever) the alcohol didn't even touch his system. Instead he sat with his jaw set as he watched Rachel dance from table to table across the restaurant.

Would he ever feel about Allison the way he felt about Rachel? He wandered as he threw back a second shot to silence the warning sirens in his head.

…

Rachel rested her tray against the counter and reviewed the drink order scribbled across her pad. Chet, the bartender was entertaining his own guests on the other side of the bar and gave her a quick acknowledging nod to fill her own drink order. It wasn't like opening a few beers required a special skill set.

Beside the few people left at the bar, the glee table was the only one left occupied. Although Breadstix was probably the hottest restaurant in town, the dinner crowd always died out well before closing. She supposed though, looking at the drink tab Santana and Puck were tallying up that they still managed to do pretty good business even with the lack of customers.

Rachel lined up the beers on her tray then ducked under the counter to find the bottle openers she had haphazardly discarded earlier that evening during the rush. Climbing back to her feet she brushed her bangs off her forehead before reaching for the bottle that seemed to vanish from her grasp.

"It's a twist top," Finn said, sweeping the bottle from her reach and popping off the cap.

She narrowed her eyes curiously. "I knew that," she lied.

"You having fun yet?" He inquired with his knee melting lopsided grin. Lifting the bottle into a _cheers_ gesture he took a long swig.

"I will," she said cocking her head playfully, "once I see the 20% gratuity off your bill. I think it may reach triple digits!"

Finn cringed and moved to sit on the stool on the opposite side of the counter. "Penny for your thought?" He asked, plucking one of the glasses off her try and placing it between them.

"No way," she shook her head adamantly. It was a game they had started playing in college on nights where they would mindlessly pull all nighters for no reason in particular, or when they found themselves isolated in a dark corner at a college party while waiting for the rest of their dorm mates to call it a night. "I'm awful at it!"

"All that deep talky stuff? Yeah, that doesn't sound like you at all," he teased.

"Okay," she conceded. "I'm good at that part. It's the penny in the cup part I can't do."

"You've at least got to try," he prodded. Presenting a penny he lined up his shot and bounced the coin into the glass with a clang.

Rachel's nose wrinkled in anticipation because she knew this was a dangerous game. Especially between she and Finn. "All right. Ask me anything."

He contemplated this for a moment. "Do you ever still cheat on the whole vegan diet thing?"

And that was the danger of the _Penny for Your Thought_ game. It was the history. A question like that with a group of friends would yield fits of laughter and taunts of Rachel's carnivorous ways. But from him it elicited memories of eating pepperoni pizza in bed after having sex for the first time, or sharing an ice cream cone in the back of his truck on hot summer days, their kisses sticky and sweet, or feasting on chicken wings and nachos after a Friday night kegger in college, where he'd lick the barbeque sauce off her fingers.

She eyed him carefully to gauge if he was torturing her on purpose and when his eyes turned dark she knew that he was. But then he dropped his gaze with a small smile, as if he were remembering these memories as fondly as she was.

"This afternoon," she began, her voice far louder than she intended. "Someone sent back their chicken parm and I couldn't help myself." She dropped her head with a shameful giggle, "It was _so _good."

Finn suppressed a chuckle and fished out the penny for her. "Your turn."

She missed.

Finn didn't.

"What was your favorite animal sweater?" He asked, his teasing eyes light with amusement.

"Seriously?" She laughed. Rachel bashfully dropped her gaze to trace a glass ring on the bar top with her finger. "I can't believe I wore enough animal sweaters for it to become a category!" She groaned.

"You know, there's actually something I've always been meaning to ask," he said thoughtfully. "If you like cats so much, why did you wear so many sweaters with dogs on it?"

"Can we not remember this anymore?" She said dropping her face into her hands. "It's humiliating!"

"Well I liked the owl one," he shrugged before casually sitting back on his stool.

Their eyes met with a spark. "I still have it," she cringed, but couldn't fight off the waves of laughter.

Reaching for the penny she took another shot. She missed.

"It's all in the wrist," Finn explained as the cling of the glass rang out again.

"It's not fair!" She cried.

Finn leaned his elbows against the counter. "If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?"

Rachel pressed her lips together before mirroring his stance. "Paris," she decided. "It's so beautiful and romantic and artistic, just like a movie. I'd sing in a cabaret at night and during the day I'd learn how to cook just like Julia Child."

"Cool, can I come?"

It was another game they used to play when they were in high school. One would mention a plan for the future. A day away, a month, a year or more and the other would nod and ask _can I come too? _Back then there was a sense of possibility. Now it was like a lost cause. Painfully so.

She paused for a long moment because of the biting reality that this dream would never come true. Not with him at least.

"Of course," she said with a nod. "I'll need a drummer for my band after all."

"And we'd eat crescent rolls for breakfast?" He added hopefully.

"Well yes," she agreed, her voice light even though her heart was crying. "But they only call them crescents there."

"We don't speak French though," he argued.

"Then Kurt will have to come too," she decided. "He's the only one who took both languages in high school." She bit her lip. Like a moth to a flame, she couldn't help but play with fire. "You're right though. With the language barrier and the culture shock, that come to think of it include a rather rude people." She shrugged casually and eyed him carefully. "May as well just move to New York. They have art and French food and when people are insulting you, at least you understand them."

Finn dropped his gaze to his hands, causing Rachel to brace herself for the inevitable _Please don't do this_ speech that always seemed to be at the tip of his tongue when in proximity to her.

"Yeah, but I could never support myself as a drummer," he shook his head with a scoff. "That's just crazy."

She was in.

"Well you wouldn't _have_ to be a drummer," she continued to keep her tone as light as possible but inside she was screaming with excitement. "There are thousands of industries to get into, even outside of entertainment. There's something for everyone there."

"But if _you_ couldn't make it out there, there's no way that I could," he countered. "You're like ten times smarter and like a million times more talented than me."

"We could do it together," came flying out of her mouth before she could fully comprehend the words. "Because being a part of something special makes you special," she reasoned with New Direction's patented go to argument. She cringed. That made no sense, she'd have to improvise. "And if you have some sort of support system, the impossible can finally seem possible. If you and me," she added quickly, "and Kurt, Blaine and _Allison_ moved to New York, we'd be unstoppable."

Finn cocked his head thoughtfully like he was actually considering the possibility. Raising his gaze, he pressed his lips together and said, "Your turn."

Rachel took a deep breath and reached for the penny, her eyes trained on his. Th penny bounced off the counter and landed in his waiting hand on the other side of the bar.

Closing his fingers around the coin, he folded his arms against the bar top. "Do you want to know my biggest regret?" He asked.

_Yes!_ Was her first instinct to shout. Preferably if it had anything to do with his upcoming nuptials or the day he first broke up with her.

Instead she regained her composure by lifting her chin and shaking her head.

"I can't answer that unless you make the shot."

He lifted a challenging brow, the penny landing in the glass with a ring.

"No," she said after a long moment.

"Really?" He knew her too well and broke out in a mocking chuckle. Not that her compulsory need to know everything about everyone was some well kept secret.

"Okay, fine," she broke down with a groan. "Tell me."

"I wish I could take risks like you."

She reached for the penny from the glass with a bitter chuckle. Polishing the coin with her thumb, she shook her head slowly.

"I'm not exactly the poster child for that. I'm a college dropout on the waitstaff of a former high school hang out." She rolled her eyes, "On paper I have the same qualifications as Noah Puckerman!"

"Don't say that," he eased with a supportive grin. "Puck could never get a job at Breadstix. Not after the whole deep frier incident anyway." He took another swig from his beer and lifted his shoulder with a shrug. "Besides at least you tried to go to college. You just didn't go to the right one."

She frowned, her eyes still trained on the penny in her hands. "Well I didn't get that acceptance to Julliard."

"But you did to NYU."

She froze, a frown creasing her lips. Her eyes lifted carefully to meet his.

"You didn't though."

She had told herself back then that nothing would keep her from fulfilling her destiny of singing on a New York stage. But when the reality of leaving, leaving him in particular, was actually presented she found herself bargaining. _ What's four years?_ She had asked, New York would still be waiting. When Burt had a minor set back in his recovery causing Kurt to bail on their New York plans, Rachel had jumped on the opportunity to defer her dreams. The next day she sent her letter of intention to the Ohio State University. She was fine with that decision for a while. Columbus was a fairly large and active city in its own right and the university campus was lively and vibrant. She even got to be around the people she loved on a daily basis. Finn and Kurt were there, as well as Sam, Mercedes and Mike so she never felt alone.

"I shouldn't have let you stay," he said breaking her from her thoughts. "Things could have been so different."

In her second year, she had joined a theatre company and at that point couldn't fight the Broadway itch a moment longer. Most of the actors hadn't finished college and the few that had only majored in English or math or something entirely unrelated to the stage. She completely turned against the idea of learning in the classroom, not when the stage could teach her so much more through experience.

"Finn," she covered his hand with hers, her petite fingers barely covering his knuckles. "Nothing would have stopped me from running away for Broadway. School just wasn't a priority, no matter what zip code it was in. Nothing was."

The truth was, she had started to resent him after she began touring with her company. She was ready to fly and he was still passively letting his life... pass him by. When she left, she barely even gave him a warning. One day he had come by her apartment asking where they were going to dinner to find that her car had been packed. "Something quick," she had replied gathering the last of her things. "I need to get on the road by six." He had asked if she was breaking up with him and she had begged for him to come with her.

"When I first decided to stay in Ohio to be near you, I was giving up everything for a relationship," she explained. "And then when I ran off to New York for the show, I was giving everything up for my career. I could never truly be happy because I had this misconception that I could have only one or the other, but I see now that maybe that's not true."

"What if you could do it all over again?" He asked. His eyes flashing with something unfamiliar as his thumb overlapped her fingers until he held her hand in his.

She felt the burn of tears threatening and quickly shook them away, retracting her hand from his gasp. "It's not your turn anymore," she said sadly.

Eying the glass, she bit her bottom lip between her teeth before bouncing the penny against the bar top. Finally the glass sang with success and Finn gave her a well deserved round of applause while she couldn't resist the urge to bow in triumph.

"Okay," she said clasping her hands together to plan out the best use of her turn. "Looking back at high school, what will you always think of first: glee club or football?"

"You," he blurted out in an instant before his eyes widened in shock, mirroring her own surprise. "I said that out loud didn't I," he said with an uneasy chuckle. "I mean... What I meant was I'd choose glee club, because of you..." he cringed. "Or something." He lifted his beer to take a long swig and shook his head in disbelief. "I really need to stop talking."

"What's going on over here?" Kurt asked slipping onto the stool beside Finn to rescue them both from the holes they were digging.

"The three of us are moving to Paris," Finn announced, placing a strong hand on Kurt's shoulder with a brotherly squeeze. "For the cabarets and crescent rolls."

"Que les sons passionnants!" Kurt replied in perfect French. "While we're there can I get a glass of Merlot? A big one?"

"Coming right up," Rachel said turning back to the bar.

"I have a message from the table over there," Kurt said hooking a thumb towards the glee table. "Santana quote 'wants her beers and wants them now.'"

"I'll take them," Finn offered, gathering three bottles in each hand.

Kurt watched his brother's retreating form before turning back to Rachel with a conspiratorial whisper. "You are so bad," he accused in a way that was _mostly_ teasing. "Whatever you're up to in the scheming department seems to be working this evening."

Rachel bent over the counter to join the highly confidential conversation. "I don't think I was the one scheming this time," she said throwing an accusing glance in Finn's direction.

Kurt followed her gaze, "No."

"I know it sounds presumptuous, but the way he was talking," she lowered her voice further. "I think he was flirting with me."

"Normally I'd be inclined to disagree with you," Kurt said to Rachel's displeasure. "But whatever I walked in on seemed awfully... consensual."

Rachel beamed as she watched Finn distribute beers to his table. She was coming for him and he was waiting for her.

…

Finn knew that he was playing a dangerous game. He could blame it on the alcohol, he could blame it on the nostalgia of being surrounded by glee kids for the night, he could probably draft a million excuses to justify his behavior, but deep down he knew that he was walking a very fine moral line.

The bottom line though was that Rachel was Rachel and no matter how many miles or years separated their connection, it would always be there, like some crazed psychotic serial killer that always reappeared in all thirteen sequels, no matter how many times the hero killed them off. It was easy to fight when she was away, but now that he was seeing her almost every day again, even with his wedding only two weeks away, she still had this pull on him.

And maybe the fact that his wedding was two weeks away was the problem. Like maybe he was experiencing that cold feet thing even though they were getting married in the summertime and maybe he was using this pull towards Rachel as some sort of exit strategy. He couldn't describe it, but being near her just made him feel... things.

Finn pulled up a chair to the table as Mercedes and Tina had already squeezed into his side of the booth alongside Puck. As he moved to sit, Kurt came up beside him, wine in hand and sank into Finn's chair before he could even react.

"Thank you!" Kurt chirped.

"You, Finn Hudson, owe us big time," Mercedes said, pointing an accusing finger in his direction.

Finn was still somewhat disoriented from his conversation with Rachel and only offered her a vacant "huh?" in response as he reached for another chair.

"That apartment warming party was brutal," Tina explained. "Like really bad."

"Oh," Finn frowned, his attention still on the brunette on the other side of the bar.

"She made us wait for the wine to breathe!" Kurt added incredulously. "We just sat there for hours to wait for something to happen to the tannins. Just because they did that in an episode of _How I Met Your Mother_ doesn't mean that that's how grownups are supposed to have parties," he rolled his eyes. "Someone really has to look up the word _satire_ in the dictionary."

Finn mentally took note because he had never even heard that word before. "Cool," he mumbled.

"Are you even listening to me?" Kurt snapped his fingers in front of his face.

"Yeah," he shook his head to try and focus. He gestured for Puck to poor him another shot of tequila then turned a grin to his brother. "You guys went tanning with my mother," was what he had pieced together from the broken parts of whatever Kurt had been saying.

Kurt stared at him for a long moment. "Why do I bother?" He muttered.

"So what are we doing tonight?" Mercedes asked, accepting the shot that Puck had poured for Finn. "Please tell me something fun."

"We could be," Puck piped up and raised his voice. "If Rachel would be a little quicker with the booze!"

Rachel came up beside Finn with a wine bottle and some more glasses, the hem of her skirt brushing against his bare arm in the way that made his stomach do flips. She bent over the table to distribute the glassware so that her hair tickled his cheeks with the sweet smell of strawberries.

"You know Noah," she began, resting one hand on her hip while the other settled onto the back of his chair so that he could feel the length of her body brushing against his side. He found himself fighting the urge to wrap an arm around her waist or to rest his head on the crook of her hip. "If you find our bar service unsatisfactory, may I suggest frequenting a _bar_ instead of a family restaurant?"

"But the wait staff isn't nearly as hot there," he said with a wink.

Rachel blushed, Finn glared.

Brittany slipped past Rachel and planted herself in the booth next to Santana with a half eaten slice of cheesecake. Her hair was sloppily pulled back and her uniform damp from the dish room.

"Brittany, where did you get that?" Rachel demanded, watching her carefully.

Brittany looked up innocently with her fork drawn to her mouth. "I found it on the floor."

"That is disturbing," Tina said with a gag.

"Hold up," Santana said looking around the table. "Has this turned into one of those corny high school reunions? Like the whole glee club is here."

"Except for Quinn," Mercedes countered.

"And Artie and Mike," Tina added.

"And Sam and Lauren," Kurt rounded out the list.

"Didn't they like transfer or something?" Puck narrowed his eyes, lost in thought.

"Whatever," Santana held up a hand to feign off anymore arguments to her point. "It's still totally lame."

"Remember when we started the club," Tina kicked off the 'remember when pow wow.' "We were so terrible!"

"Speaking of terrible," Santana said with a wicked grin. "Remember Finn's dancing?"

"Or when Jesse St James called him a constipated zombie!" Kurt exclaimed through shrieks of laughter. "Britt, what did you and Santana call his dance moves?"

"Frankenstomps," Brittany replied as she and Santana jumped to their feet to demonstrate the out-of-sync dance step that almost resembled a donkey kick.

Finn wasn't amused, until he felt Rachel's hand move from the edge of his chair to his shoulder, where her fingers massaged his neck with a reassuring grip. He lifted his chin to look at her and she smiled warmly at him. Suddenly he wanted so badly to touch her. In fact his hands were shaking, he wanted to so badly.

"Remember how Puck seduced every girl in New Directions with some offensive stereotype," Mercedes said, turning a glare over her shoulder towards Puck.

"Hey," he defended. "Where some people see hate, I see hotness."

"You sang 'Turning Japanese' to me," Tina countered.

"So?"

"That song is about masturbation," she explained. "And I'm Chinese. That's a totally different race."

Finn licked his lips before sneaking a glance back up at Rachel. Scanning his eyes around the table, he made sure that no one was watching him and then carefully lifted his hand so that his fingers brushed up the back of Rachel's calf, running up her leg until they settled at the crease of her knee.

Her grip tightened on his shoulder and he let out a sharp breath in response to the rush of blood surging through his body towards his... nether region. His bad idea meter was triggering off the charts, yet he found his fingers walking up the smooth skin of her thigh until they encountered the hem of her skirt. Her body seemed to melt to the point that her entire weight was leaning across his shoulders.

He kept his eyes focused on the table. His lips pressed tightly together while he nodded his head as if he were listening to the conversation going on around him.

"Remember when I met Britney Spears?"

His head was screaming for him to stop, but some all powerful force, maybe his spleen or something, was telling him to keep on touching her. His fingers disappeared up the back of her skirt and made contact with the rough elastic of her panties. He couldn't see her face, yet he could picture vivid pants and sighs and he knew he was being selfish because now all he wanted to do was kiss her.

"Remember when Finn and Rachel's hormones lost us Nationals?" He heard Kurt say causing him to freeze.

"I saw the videos," Santana piped up, "and it was gross."

Finn felt Rachel stand up straight, the hand that had been resting on his shoulder moving to sit on her hip. "Well we did win Nationals our senior year," she argued.

"Yeah but that was in Orlando," Puck whined with a cringe.

"I thought it was Mickey's house," Brittany refuted.

"It still wasn't New York."

"Then it's decided," Santana declared. "When Rachel finally ceases to annoy us here in Lima, good luck on that one, and returns to New York, she can host a 'Glee Does New York Part 2' to make it up to us. This time she'll keep it in... or out of her pants if we're going to get literal here and find a way to not completely ruin our vacation. Most likely by locking herself in her closet for the weekend while we utilize her apartment."

Finn's body caught up to his head in an instant and his arm fell back down to his side, breaking away from her contact. He wasn't in high school anymore. Rachel was going back to New York and he was getting married and what he was doing was wrong on so many levels.

"I've got to go," he announced abruptly and shot to his feet. "Unpacking and stuff."

"But you were buying," Santana argued.

"Right," he fished out his credit card and handed it over to Kurt reluctantly.

In the corner of his eye all he could see was Rachel's mortified face as he gathered up all of his things in a rush. Offering one last wave he ran towards the exit.

He was making a huge mistake. He just couldn't figure out which one that was.


	8. Girl Can't Help It

**Author's Note: **Thank you again for the wonderful reviews. Shout out to **JannP** for recognizing the song titles, that started out with random songs/cheesy love quotes, but turned into Journey songs, because Finn + Rachel + Journey = Glee Goodness. Also to **sandra-wfg** who has become my official French liason for when I forget my 5 years of French and slack with Google translate. Also to **yosefain**, I completely agree and hope this chapter is sort of a turning point. Throughout this whole story, I've been trying to give Rachel and Finn separate journeys where they sort of discover their potential outside of one another because I hate the idea of 'Finn does something because Rachel does all the dirty work' or' Rachel goes to New York because Finn tells her to.' I prefer them to be supportive and encouraging of one anther but not completely reliant on the other and I hope that that's what is being conveyed. Anyway, we're getting near the end! Hope y'all keep on enjoying!

* * *

**Chapter Seven: **Girl Can't Help It _Without Some R-E-S-P-E-C-T_

Finn had always liked the idea of bachelor parties. Beer, cards and boobs? Those were like three of his favorite things. He could never count cards or anything so he was never good at blackjack, but when it came to poker he could always tell what the other players were thinking. Like when Kurt's nostrils flared out, it wasn't because he was mad, it was because he was so excited that the only place he could think of to relieve the energy was through his nose. Or when Puck was backed into a corner he'd bounce his shoulders a lot or bob his head like a chicken to divert attention. He had always been good at reading people, especially when they had such easy tells and he had really been looking forward to winning all of their money.

But when Finn was actually preparing for his own bachelor party, he was suddenly feeling hesitant.

Things had been weird.

Adjusting to living with Allison had been more of an adjustment than he had anticipated. All of his stuff had somehow disappeared throughout the week (in the garbage mostly) and their schedules were completely out of sync. Finn had sort of grown accustom to getting nine hours of sleep every night. Allison on the other hand appeared to be some sort of vampire or zombie or whatever other nocturnal creature that would rather stay up talking all night or wake up early to force him into a morning jog than actually sleep. It was exhausting.

Then there was the whole Rachel thing.

He wasn't sure if it was one of those things he was supposed to tell Allison about. It wasn't like he _did_ anything. _Something _would have been a kiss or one of the other predefined bases, not touching someone's leg, that was _nothing_. He touched people's legs all the time and it was no big deal. But because it was Rachel of all people, he knew any sort of interaction could be considered a big deal. In fact it was such an issue, he felt like he had to notify Allison if he told Rachel so much as "God bless you" after she sneezed.

Maybe it wasn't about actions though. It was about feelings. And he felt _something_ (emotionally and _physically_) when he touched her leg and that made it not _nothing_ so it was _something_ that he had to tell Allison about.

But then what?

It wasn't like he was going to pursue something with Rachel. Her life was in New York and his life was here and there was a lot of excess baggage that only complicated things further. Messing up things with Allison by telling her the truth just seemed like a lot of unnecessary yelling. Relationships built on lies worked all the time... at least on TV.

And then he just felt guilty all the time.

So when Puck had run through the itinerary of his bachelor party plans, the thought of naked women grinding against him only made him feel worse.

"I'm not sure if strippers are a good idea," he had shrugged.

"Lame!" Puck had shouted in return. "You're lucky I even wrestled control of this event. Kurt's plans included a night at a karaoke bar!"

Fully clothed women? Off key renditions of 80's power ballads? "Sounds good, let's do that," he had eagerly agreed.

Finn wondered if the rest of his life would be like this. Not that avoiding strip clubs would be some sort of epic tragedy (not when there was still so much porn on the internet), it was just that he felt the need to skirt around conflicts by avoiding them at all costs. Kurt called it deflecting, but Finn wasn't sure how you could see that in a mirror.

Finn collapsed against Puck's couch with slumped, dejected shoulders and accepted the gaming controller offered to him. Pursing his lips he cast a few eager glances towards his friend. He had like a million thoughts running through his head but couldn't find the right way to vocalize it. He had that problem a lot.

"Dude, I know I'm a stud, but the way you're looking at me is freaking me out."

"Can I ask you something?" Finn asked.

Puck didn't even turn his eyes from the television screen, busy working his way through the setup menus of their game.

"Unless the next words out of your mouth are 'I was being a majorly whipped lame ass, can we please go see strippers?' then all I will hear are womanly sobs, because that is seriously the only crap that comes out of your mouth these days."

"Last weekend at Breadstix," Finn continued on anyway. "Something sort of happened with Rachel."

This got Puck's attention. "You two hook up in the bathroom? That handicapped stall looks small but it comfortably fits three."

"No!" Finn exclaimed. "I sort of _caressed_ her leg."

Puck rolled his eyes and went back to setting up their game with a few agitated button presses.

"What is this the Victorian age? What does that even mean?"

Finn nervously shifted his gaze from side to side. He had never been good at opening up to people about those types of things. Certainly he would brag from time to time in a nondescript kind of way, but that was only because he was a guy. And being friends with Puck was sort of intimidating at times, leading Finn to project about his conquests in ways he wasn't normally comfortable with.

"I reached my hand up her skirt," he finally said after a long moment.

"Look," Puck replied, seeming to sense his hesitation. "Did you touch anything wet?"

"What?"

"That's like the deciding factor for whether it's cheating or not," he explained. "Well I mean there's lots of criteria, but it depends on how badly you want to get away with it."

"No," Finn said with a shrug.

"Then you're fine," he said, giving him a pat on the shoulder. "Stop freaking out over nothing."

Finn dropped his controller in his lap to fold his arms across his chest. "I just feel like I'm keeping this huge secret from Allison and I can't shake it."

"There' a very important relationship ratio," Puck began. Realizing the game was going no where, he tossed his game controller on to the floor. "What you actually did," he explained, lifting one hand for emphasis, "versus how much she will blow it way out of proportion." He lifted the other hand to demonstrate the careful balance. "If that second number is greater than the first, then there's no reason to tell her."

Finn considered this for a long moment. Puck did have a point. And it was sort of what he was planning to do anyway. Sometimes things that didn't seem like a big deal, like getting a beer with the guys after work instead of coming straight home for dinner, turned into some huge thing. Like he was trying to hurt her on purpose just because he told her the truth.

What happened with Rachel was an accident. Plain and simple. He had gotten carried away with the nostalgia of reliving high school memories, and one of his most fond memories would always be how awesome it was to touch Rachel's legs. It wasn't something he had done with the intention of hurting Allison, so what was the point of hurting her with the truth?

But that got him thinking about high school and how badly it hurt when Quinn slept with Puck. Even though they didn't do it to hurt _him, _the part that hurt the most was that they kept it from him, that they let him be humiliated while everyone else knew the truth. Or how he slept with Santana to hurt Rachel but decided that telling her about it would only hurt her more so he kept it a secret. That didn't blow up in his face at all when she found out, just like he was sure keeping these feelings from Allison wouldn't either. It didn't seem fair to filter that type of information from Allison just because he was being selfish.

"I have to tell her."

Puck shook his head sadly. "Bad idea, dude."

"Aren't we getting too old for that crap though? Hiding or avoiding things for no reason just because we don't want to deal with the consequences."

Puck rolled his eyes. "Well if you're just going to get all preachy about it, then stop doing stupid things that'll get you into trouble."

"Maybe that's the problem," Finn frowned. "Maybe I want to do stupid things and I want to get in trouble... because I'm not happy."

"About marrying Allison?"

"No." Finn pressed his lips together. "Is this really where you saw your life going?"

"Uh, yeah," Puck scoffed. "Have you seen my life? It's awesome. I work noon to nine at a freaking mall. Do you know how many hot chicks I meet there?"

"Yeah, but haven't you ever dreamed of something bigger?"

"Bigger dick maybe," Puck shrugged dismissively.

Finn took a deep breath. "I've been thinking a lot lately about growing up. Like at one point, when I was a kid, I saw myself in the army, because of my dad, but that was never something I seriously thought I would do. I never had this big dream for the future, like wanting to be on Broadway, or an entertainment planner...socialite... whatever Kurt is, or a lawyer like Blaine. The only thing I've ever wanted was to not end up here."

"A Lima Loser?"

"Yeah," he replied with a slow nod.

Puck's brows creased with what seemed to be genuine concern. "Where do you see yourself, though?"

"That's the problem. I don't know." Finn dropped his elbows onto his knees and his gaze fell to the floor. "I always thought high school was tough. Football plays, girls, glee club, being popular, love triangles, teen pregnancies... homework. All that junk going on all the time, there was so much pressure. But now that I'm grownup, or whatever, I realize that I had all those problems because I always took the easy way out. The only risks I ever took were joining the glee club and dating Rachel and those were the only things that ever really made me happy."

"In high school," Puck verified.

Finn blinked a few times in hopes of finding the answer, because honestly, he hadn't a clue. "Yeah, in high school."

"You should run away," Puck suggested after a long moment.

"Run away? How will that help?"

"You've got to go find yourself, like they used to do on those dumb teen chick shows. Go hop a train or something and see the world."

"What? I can't do that. Allison would never go for that."

"Who cares?" Puck shrugged. "When that Beatnik guy wrote that book he was just hitting the open road with his buddy and banging lots of hot chicks. At least that's what I think it was about. I only skimmed the Wikipedia page to get that hipster to go down on me."

"I have always wanted to travel," Finn cocked his head thoughtfully.

A light seemed to glimmer in Puck's eye before he jumped to his feet. "Let's go. You and me. Tonight. We can take on odd jobs like dairy farming or building airplanes or starting a band in LA or something. Anything but here, right?"

Finn just chuckled at first but the more Puck paced around the room, the more Finn began to realize that he was being completely serious.

"It will solve all of your problems too. You won't have to deal with the whole Allison thing..."

"The wedding?"

"Whatever. And with you out of town, Rachel will stop moping around Lima and finally go back to New York."

It was a tempting idea, but Finn only shook his head. "Isn't that worse? Running away."

"It worked for Rachel."

"No it didn't," he narrowed his eyes. "She gave up her Broadway dreams to become a waitress in Ohio."

"Who cares?" He groaned. "Let's go!"

Finn's gaze drifted towards the open window. It was dusk out. The sky transitioning from its orange glow into darkness. Through the trees he could make out the faint flash of lights from the cars racing by on a distant road. He wondered what it would be like to randomly hop into one of those cars and see where it went. Jumping from car to car, no matter which direction it went. Where would it lead?

Shaking the thoughts from his head he lifted his lips into a grin.

"Kurt will be here soon, for the party," he said sadly.

Puck only frowned as he nodded in agreement.

…

Rachel tapped her foot impatiently and lifted her cellphone to check for the time. It wasn't that the girls were late this evening for their bi-weekly dinner date (she was actually fairly early) it was the anxiety that was getting to her. Tonight was Finn's bachelor party, which meant that in exactly one week Finn would be getting married.

The hidden touches from the week before had been one thing, but the way they spoke so frankly and honestly with one another about the future had felt like the most intimate thing in the world. She missed that type of connection.

She was growing impatient though. The more time she spent in Lima, the more she remembered why she wanted to leave so badly. She missed her crummy apartment and her rude agent and the rush of auditioning (no matter how unsuccessful they often went) and restaurants being open through the night (every place here closed before 10:30). Everything in Lima was so boring and ordinary. She hadn't thought of what would happen after the wedding date. If Finn came to his senses and called off the wedding, would he try to get back together with her? Would he expect her to stay with him in Lima or would he follow her to New York this time around?

She frowned, suddenly struck with the feeling that she was reliving the same mistake all over again.

"You're pathetic, did you know that?"

Rachel nodded absently before recognizing the voice. "Hello, Santana," she said coldly. "What are you doing here?"

"Dinner with the girls," Santana said, folding her arms across her chest. "Mercedes invited me along... sort of."

"Oh."

"I know what you're doing," she continued.

"Sitting?" Rachel replied curiously before glancing back at her phone impatiently.

"Sneaking around."

"How did you..." she gasped and quickly went to connecting the dots of how Santana would find out.

"Look, I've never taken a particular interest in your life because frankly, I've never found your life to be particularly interesting. But right now you are being so freaking transparent." Santana took a seat beside Rachel on the bench and continued. "I saw you two fondling each other last week. Finn was making those stupid gassy infant faces and you were making those creepy dramatic squinty eyes and I didn't say anything because I didn't want to projectile vomit, Linda Blair style, all across the table."

"Nothing happened," Rachel refuted just as her phone began to beep with a text notification.

Santana snatched the device away to read the message. "_What are you wearing? _ Have you two no shame?"

Rachel bowed her head meekly. "That's from Kurt actually. He's my fashion adviser."

"He's doing an awful job," she replied eying her as if she were a leper. Santana crossed one leg over the other and pivoted on the bench to face her. "Listen. I'm going to drop a little knowledge on you. This game you're playing with Finn is pathetic."

"Excuse me?"

"You think he's going to leave his fiance for you? The way you're throwing yourself at him, it's like you're wearing this giant neon 'I'm Available' sign around your neck. Why would he ever drop the baggage when he has you lactating in the wings over him?"

Rachel glanced down curiously at her chest then back to her unexpected fairy godmother. "What are you suggesting?"

"You have to give him an ultimatum. Let him know that you're not some two bit hussy who will play his mistress, you know unless the jewelry is eighteen karats. It will drive him crazy. The only brat more spoiled about the spotlight than you, is Finn Hudson. Tell him if he doesn't drop wifey, you'll go back to New York and never look back."

"That will never work," Rachel shook her head. "I've tried that before when I first moved away and he never came after me."

"When you wanted him to drop out of college and blindly follow you to watch you star on Broadway while his manhood shriveled away from its already pathetic size?" Santana shrugged. "Maybe he's finally caught up?" She moved to stand and placed her hands on her hips. "Now if you'll excuse me, all this talking, feel good shtick is giving me a migraine."

"You are so right," Rachel agreed as she stood to her feet and smoothed her skirt down her thighs. "I've completely lost sight of what's truly important. Me. If Finn can't recognize the sacrifices he should make to be with me, then obviously he isn't worth my time. I've made my feelings clear and now I have to make it known that Rachel Berry does not wait on a shelf. If he wants me, he'll have to earn me, just like any other guy would have to."

"Inspiring, really," Santana said dryly. "But Merce-ce just texted, they're at the bar down the street."

Rachel didn't think much about it as they started along the sidewalk. She was too busy building up the confident Rachel Berry persona she had lost somewhere along the way to remember that the only bar on the same street as Breadstix happened to have karaoke on Friday nights, and that it was the only bar in town to offer such events, and that Kurt had specifically told her how they were celebrating Finn's bachelor party with a night of some rousing karaoke.

Knowing all this, she wasn't sure why exactly she was so surprised to stumble into his broad frame the moment she passed through the doors.

…

Rachel sipped on her Cosmopolitan and tried to focus on the conversation occurring at her table. On stage, Kurt was performing a flawless rendition of "Eternal Flame"and Rachel couldn't help but feel jealous that she hadn't reached the microphone first to show the crowd how karaoke was done. She knew however, that she would raise the bar later that night. So long as she kept count of how many cosmos she had consumed.

"Do you think Mike would get the wrong idea if I made out with him?" Tina asked. Her eyes darting towards the boys' table. Finn's bachelor party had been declared 'Boys Only' and they had been forbidden to mingle unless willing to expose some specific body parts (Noah's orders.) "I mean we broke up forever ago, but he is looking really kissable tonight."

"I'll make out with him," Brittany shrugged.

Tina glared. "Not what I was suggesting." Brittany had a habit of dating Tina's exes, and while they still remained good friends, Tina was most definitely not cool with it.

"No boys tonight!" Mercedes chastised. "If they can forbid the girls from socializing with them," she said pointedly raising her voice so that they could hear her, "then they are not to socialize with us."

"Well they're not doing a very good job," Quinn said airily and held up her cellphone. "Because Puck has already sent me about 15 messages propositioning me."

The girls all simultaneously checked their phones to find fifteen new messages all from the same sender.

"That's it," Quinn said standing from the table. "I'm putting all of our names on the list. If we don't sing Britney Spears' 'Womanizer' to that man whore, I will never forgive myself."

Mercedes shrieked in excitement and led them all in a toast. "To sisterhood!" She announced.

Rachel felt dizzy as she drowned the rest of her drink, throwing a glance over her shoulder to see that he was watching her, she reminded herself that he had to earn her affections.

"Hey guys!" Rachel jumped as Finn stumbled into their table, shaking all the glasses until the liquid sloshed over the edge. "You guys having fun?"

"Not as much as you seem to be," Mercedes teased.

Santana passed him a shot and he sloppily drank it, half of it dribbling down his shirt.

"I thought gender interactions were forbidden," Tina said, tapping a finger against her chin.

"Totally!" He agreed blankly and threw back the next shot Santana handed him, most of the liquid splashing on his face. "I was wondering if Rachel wanted to do a duet," he suggested, his voice shouting louder than required to the point that Kurt was glaring at him from the stage for interrupting his solo. "You know, for old time's sake."

"I'll say," Santana said saucily and flashed Brittany the 'finger through hole' gesture.

Rachel rolled her eyes and turned to look at him sweetly. "I would love to!" She said, "I happen to have the perfect song choice."

"Great," he grinned. "Because I already put our names in and we're next."

Kurt sang the closing line of his song and the bar broke out into intermittent claps, with the exception of the two glee tables, which exploded with rapturous applause.

Rachel, however, kept her eyes locked on Finn's as she defiantly rose from her table. "Shall we?" She asked as their names were called onto the stage.

Rachel took control of the microphone. "Good evening everybody," she began. "My name is Rachel Berry, former lead singer of William McKinley High School's New Directions and star of the Broadway Musical _Kiss Me Kate _during its Broadway revival on Broadway."

"And I'm Finn," he said with a quick wave.

"Initially for this performance, I selected Journey's 'Separate Ways' because I had a deep personal connection with the song and my singing partner. Given the current state of our complicated _friendship_ I have decided to turn this into a Journey medley." She turned to the band, "Keep up."

The band began to play the opening melody as the lights dimmed. Rachel handed Finn the spare microphone and smiled sweetly. "You take the first verse," she chirped.

Finn stared at her incredulously before stepping into center stage. Rachel rarely gave away the opening verse and everyone knew it.

_Here we stand  
World's apart, hearts broken in two, two, two_

Rachel stepped up beside him to interrupt his verse. Her eyes dark as she drowned out his voice with her most demanding belt.

_It's been a mystery and still they try to see  
__Why something good can hurt so bad_

Finn blinked a few times, because he knew she was singing a different song but nervously powered on through his verse.

_Sleepless nights  
Losing ground  
I'm reaching for you, you, you_

Rachel circled behind him and placed a hand on his chest, pushing against him until he fell into the stride she set and continued with her tune.

_Caught on a one-way street, the taste of bittersweet  
__Love will survive somehow, some way_

A grin flashed across Finn's lips as he recognized the game she was playing. Something about the way they sang together made them connect in a way she never had with anyone else. Taking a breath on the same beat, they continued together.

_One love feeds the fire  
One heart burns desire  
I wonder, who's cryin' now_

"Though we touched and went our separate ways," Finn sang as he reached for her hand and pulled her petite body against his.

_Two hearts born to run  
Who'll be the lonely one  
I wonder, who's cryin' now_

"Though we touched and went our separate ways," sang Rachel, pulling away and skipping across the stage so that he would have to chase her.

Finn's eyes grew dark because Rachel's plan had a fatal flaw. If she was going to use Journey as a weapon, she should have found a weaker victim. Finn licked his lips and claimed the next verse with a card she hadn't anticipated.

_You've got some fascination  
With your high expectations  
This love is your obsession  
Your heart, your past possession_

Rachel flinched, but kept her chin held high for her retaliation.

_Let down your defenses  
Won't be up to the one who cares _

_As you search the embers  
Neither could change their headstrong ways_

Rachel spun on her heels and made her way through the band, weaving through each member. She could feel him a step behind her as they fell into their same dance.

_Someday love will find you  
Break those chains that bind you  
One night will remind you_

"The girl can't help it, she needs more," she sang as she crossed in front of him on stage and offered him a suggestive smirk over her shoulder.

"He hasn't found what he's looking for," he echoed, lunging towards her but unable to catch her as she slipped through his finger.

_If he ever hurts you  
True love won't desert you  
You know I still love you_

_He can't help it and she's just that way _

Rachel led them back out to center stage and they circled one another in their dizzying dance. Heavy with determination and some strange feeling she had only ever felt when they sang together.

_Someday love will find you  
Break those chains that bind you  
One night will remind you_

"I didn't want to say goodbye," Finn sang.

_If he ever hurts you  
True love won't desert you  
You know I still love you  
Though we touched and went our separate ways_

They stood with labored breath looking eye to eye as the song came to a close.

Finn swallowed thickly and his chest rose and fell at a heavy pace that she found absolutely mesmerizing. "I need air," he said, his eyes boring deeply into hers.

Her lips went dry and she nodded slowly. "Me too."

They parted, taking separate ways off the stage, even as the crowd demanded more. Rachel stopped back at her table momentarily to accept her praise, her eyes never breaking from Finn's as he took similar compliments from his table. He tilted his head towards the door before making his way towards it, only pausing for a brief moment to glance back at her to be sure that she was following.

She excused herself quickly and made a beeline towards the door. The summer air was cool causing her to shiver, but she didn't care, she had other things on her mind that would keep her warm. Her eyes scanned the crowd along the sidewalk in search of him, but he was nowhere to be found. Taking a few careful steps down the street, she gasped when two large hands gripped her waist to pull her into the alleyway, spinning her in one fluent motion until his lips crashed against hers.

He lifted her to his height and pressed her against the brick wall for stability as his lips devoured hers,setting every one of her senses on fire. She hooked her legs around him, her heels digging into his back to force him closer while her fingers combed feverishly through his cropped hair. His lips broke from hers to find her neck and he attacked it with a mixture of hot breath, sloppy kisses and eager nips.

She tilted her head back and let out a strained sigh. "Please don't marry her," she pleaded quietly.

Reality or something equally disappointing seemed to dawn on Finn for a moment and he pulled back, his eyes locking with hers for a brief moment before falling to his chest. He rested his forehead against hers and let out a short almost bitter chuckle. "Don't you see we're no good for each other?" He said in a low, careful voice. "Whenever I'm around you I hold you back and whenever you're around me I can't move on."

She shut her eyes tightly, because she knew he was right. "Come to New York with me."

He set her back down on her feet, lifting a hand to brush against her cheek. "I can't," he frowned, his eyes still trained on the ground. They quivered for a moment, flashing upward to catch her gaze before quickly jumping away again. "I'm not like you."

"What are you so afraid of?" She asked. Taking a deep breath, she felt an overwhelming frustration over him and his wedding and her life and the fact that there were tears threatening the edges of her eyes.

"You're special, Rach," he said as he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, allowing his hand to linger against her face. "You don't need me."

"I know," she lifted her chin confidently and batted his hand away from him as if he were patronizing her. "I'm gong back to New York Finn, whether you marry Allison or not. After the wedding next Saturday, even if it doesn't happen, I'm gone. This is your last chance."

_Take a chance on me._

Finn tucked his hands into his pockets and licked his lips and for a brief moment she felt as if something was finally clicking in his brain. "I ..." he trailed off.

"What's going on out here?" Rachel lifted her gaze and it took her a moment to register that Puck was standing there and that she and Finn were standing in a somewhat compromising position.

"Nothing," she said, turning a stubborn glare back in Finn's direction.

Puck either missed the tension between them, or recognized it and decided to take full advantage of it (Rachel would put money on the second scenario). With an amused grin, he patted his buddy on the shoulder, "Because Finn, if you really want a lap dance, I know a few more talented ladies than Berry here down at the Ass Factory."

"Can you just take Rachel home," Finn finally said, his shoulders slumped as if he were in physical pain. "I'm feeling kind of tired, I think I'm going to get a ride from Kurt."

"But, but, strippers!" He whined.

"Please?"

He groaned. "Fine!"

Rachel cast one last look in his direction before folding her arms across her chest and following Puck towards his car.

* * *

_Song List off Journey's Greatest Hits. The medley included "Separate Ways", "Who's Crying Now", "Ask the Lonely", and very brief lines from "Girl Can't Help It" and "Send Her My Love"_


	9. Who's Crying Now

**Author's Note:** Thank you for all the lovely feedback. I must admit that Santana, Puck and Kurt are my favorite voices to write, I know, which is weird since I seem to only write Finn/Rachel fics. Santana because she has that sharp and biting wit that reminds me of Season 1 of _Dawson's Creek_, which whoever has followed my fanfic writing career knows is like my favorite season. Puck because you can write the most outrageous things for him and its still totally in character. And Kurt because I want to be him when I grow up, even though I'm several years older than him and a straight woman. Anyway, this chapter is super angsty (hence the title) and the second to last chapter (minus the epilogue). I'd like to thank everyone who has stuck around and hope you keep on enjoying!**  
**

* * *

**Chapter Eight: **Who's Crying Now?_ Everybody_

The summer sun lifted high into the sky, the light spilling through the open window soaking his skin in its warm glow. Outside he could hear the faint song of birds chirping out in the parking lot.

He wanted them all shot.

Rolling over in his bed, he kept his pillow pressed firmly to his face. The throbbing headache was too much to bare and the fear of exposing his eyes to sunlight, coupled with his building desire to suffocate made death by asphyxiation the only appealing option.

With all the strength he could muster, he attempted to sit up. His stomach lurched as if the alcohol he had consumed the night before had ripped through all of his internal organs like acid.

Fuck.

There were definitely people who died from that kind of stuff. He remembered Miss Holiday putting on some bizarre puppet show in English Lit about emo writers and poets who stuck their heads in ovens or blew their brains out or went to crazy houses. One of them busted all of their organs (or maybe it was just the liver, he didn't pay _that_ much attention) with alcohol. He remembered this because Miss Holiday put a squirt gun in a puppet that was filled with ketchup and sprayed it all over the class room.

Finn collapsed back against the mattress. His death was inevitable, he might as well take what was coming.

"You're up!"

Finn flinched.

His liver was taking an awfully long time to give out. He wondered what temperature the oven had to be set to to properly bake his brains. He'd never make it. The oven took way too long to preheat.

"Finn. What are you doing?"

That was a very good question, he thought as he continued to stare into the muffled white darkness of the pillow pressed against his face.

The memories from last night began to seep through his subconscious like flashes from a Polaroid. They ate steaks. Really big steaks, he remembered. Kurt even ate one but had paired his with a full bodied Pinot Noir because, _if you're going to clog your arteries, you might as well do it with class._ And then they went to the batting cages and Blaine got hit in the ear with a fast ball because he didn't know the difference between a lefty helmet and a righty. Then they went to the dollar store and bought a ton of those snappers and ran around the parking lot throwing handfuls of them at each other. Mike had gotten Artie so good that smoke began to come out of his acrylic sweater vest. And then they went to the Quick E Mart and got slushies and spiked them with Jack Daniels and Kurt threw his in Puck's face because he had always wanted to do it in high school. Puck was more mad about wasting all that JD, which made it even funnier when he began scooping clumps of ice off his shirt to suck out all the remnants of alcohol.

Finn let out a sigh of relief. Why had he thought something so awful had happened. It was just a harmless night of harmless guys doing harmless guy stuff.

He frowned. Then why was he so hungover?

No.

There was a smokey room and the smell of wine and cheap perfume.

Fuck.

He sang Journey with Rachel. He sang Journey with Rachel and then they made out in the parking lot. He was royally screwed.

Allison plucked the pillow from his grasp and set herself on the edge of the bed beside him.

"So," she began over his painful groans of discontent. "Did you have fun last night?"

"No?" He replied carefully.

"Blaine and Kurt had too carry you last night," she ruffled a hand through his hair and giggled brightly. He cringed. Why was everything so loud all of a sudden? "Well it was more like dragging because you're so tall."

"Really?" He forced a grin to mirror her expression and tried to nod as enthusiastically as he could muster (which was not very enthusiastic at all).

"It was hilarious. I wish I took out my camera for it!"

His head throbbed as Allison laughed... cackled almost. Everything went into slow motion. Her head bucking back with every throb of laughter, her voice echoing louder and louder and louder.

His head was definitely going to explode.

"Too bad," he mumbled, blinking a few times to keep his head balanced.

"Finn, are you all right?"

"I'm going to be sick," he muttered and dropped his head back against the mattress.

Allison jumped to her feet and took a few strides back as if he were carrying the bubonic plague. "Well if you're going to puke, please don't do it on the bed. I just washed the sheets."

Finn chuckled. Dudes didn't puke the morning after. Women on the other hand held it in like a ticking time bomb set to go off at the exact moment you got the best table at the best diner in town with the best hangover cure in the history of alcohol.

"I'm fine," he said, struggling to pull himself up until he was sitting upright. Finn let out a heavy breath, slumping his shoulders while he rubbed absently at his temples. "Look. Can we talk?"

"What about?" She asked, her voice low and hesitant.

"It's just," he sighed and lifted his chin. Gesturing towards the bed he patted the mattress beside him. "Can you just... Can you sit for a minute?"

Taking a few petite steps she lowered herself onto the bed and folded her hands in her lap.

Finn licked his lips as he carefully crafted the words that would explain to her exactly _how_ he was a complete and utter dick to her. Scanning the room he investigated the shelves and dressers to be sure there weren't any suitable murder weapons she would bludgeon him with upon hearing the news. Or any sharp edges she could castrate him with, because he really didn't want to call Puck at this hour to beg him to go on the most emasculating treasure hunt in history.

"What's the matter?" Allison asked, her voice growing impatient.

"I, um," he chuckled nervously. "Something happened last night and you should know about it."

He took this psychology class in college once. He thought they'd do cool things like put rats in mazes and electrocute people and stuff, but instead all they did was memorize vocabulary words. One thing he remembered was how you could tell a person was lying if they looked to the left because that's where you look when you're making stuff up. Finn caught himself glancing up towards the left side of the room and shook his head.

"We ran into some of the girls from glee club at the bar last night," he admitted. "Rachel was there."

"Oh," Allison said coldly, without any sort of reaction flashing across her face.

"We were both really drunk, and I don't know... for some reason I thought it would be a good idea to sing a duet and, uh..." he swallowed thickly and carefully trained his gaze on her. "I sort of kissed her."

He waited for something to happen. For her to slap him, for her to scream, for her to grow a second head to better rip him apart with insults. But instead she stared blankly at her hands.

"Why are you telling me this?" She asked drawing out each word as if they were foreign to her.

"I've been burned by stuff like this in the past and I know how much it can suck when you hear it from the wrong person."

She nodded slowly, "Did somebody catch you or something?"

"No," he brushed a frustrated hand through his hair. Realizing he had no right to be upset with her when he was the douche in this argument, he closed his eyes tightly to calm his nerves. "No. I just wanted you to hear it from me, okay?"

"Were you afraid Rachel was going to tell me?"

Finn hadn't thought of that. But given Rachel's history, she wasn't the best at keeping secrets.

"No," he shook away the thoughts. "I don't want to keep these secrets from you. I want to be honest with you."

"Okay," she said simply, rising off of the bed.

"Wait. That's it?" Finn demanded, blinking a few times as she moved towards the door. "Okay?"

"What do you want me to say, Finn?" She snapped. He let out a sigh of relief, _that_ was what he was expecting. "Do you still have feelings for her? Are you planning on running away together? What, Finn? What?"

"I do," he admitted.

She narrowed her eyes and tilted her head as if angling her head an inch closer would give her some sort of clarity. "You do, what?"

Finn opened his mouth to speak but no words came out. Dropping his gaze to his hands he lowered his voice. "I do have feelings for her. I'll probably always have feelings for her and you deserve to know that." He stood to his feet (Nothing like a sobering conversation to sober up) and stepped towards her. "But I'm with _you. _ I'm committed to you."

Then something weird happened. Something he hadn't expected.

She launched herself into his arms and he nearly toppled over when she crashed into him, her arms wrapping tightly around his neck. "That's all I needed to hear," she whispered against his neck.

"You mean you aren't mad?" He blinked incredulously for a few moments. Surely she was still going to murder him in his sleep.

"Of course I am," she said brightly. "But you could have hidden this from me forever and I never would have known, but you didn't and my therapist says that refusal to acknowledge residual feelings from past relationships is actually more debilitating on a marriage than pretending the issue doesn't exist."

"Wait, you talk to your therapist about me..."

"Don't you see Finn? We've broken the curse of the Ghost of Girlfriend's Past!"

"What?" He was having a hard time keeping up. "How?"

"When you kissed her. Your first instinct was to tell me!"

Finn chuckled uneasily, but only squeezed her tighter. When he kissed her his first instinct was to find the backseat of some abandoned vehicle, or to at least investigate the cleanliness of the dumpster lid to see if it was a suitable surface for some ungodly activities. Perhaps that level of honesty was _too_ much, given the situation.

"It's like a psychological study or something," Allison continued on.

"Freud?" Finn questioned, breaking out of her embrace and holding her at arm's length.

"No," she beamed. "McConaughey." She threw her arms around him again and hugged him tightly. "I'm so glad you told me," she repeated. "Because now I have the courage to let you know I've been exchanging e-mails with an old high school boyfriend."

Finn's eyes widened. "Wait, what?"

"I mean it was only my chemistry teacher and we only made out a few times before he got fired, and you were being so distant ever since _your_ high school girlfriend came back, that I wanted to do something to make you jealous but I was starting to feel so guilty about it. What you did was so much worse! I feel so relieved!" She cupped Finn's cheeks between her hands and kissed him firmly on the lips. "Now go take a shower, you smell like death. Kurt will be here any minute to review last minute wedding plans."

Finn stumbled back a few steps as he watched Allison bounce out of the room. He thought that telling her the truth would fix everything, but he wasn't feeling any better.

…

Finn straightened his tie in the mirror before checking that the buttons on his cuffs were done.

Burt appeared in the doorway and leaned against the frame. "Ya ready kiddo?" He asked, digging his hands into his pockets.

Finn grinned at him in the mirror and went to adjust his tie again. "It's only the rehearsal."

The entire week had felt like a rehearsal. Allison put them in intensive 24/7 couples counseling, except she was the counselor and the moderator and the woman scorned. He wasn't sure if it was productive measures to strengthen their relationship or her passive aggressive way of punishing him for kissing Rachel, but it sure was a great opportunity for her to air every single one of her grievances with him (which generally tended towards his grooming habits, or lack there of).

It _had_ given him the opportunity to express some of his fears though, which was good he guessed. Although she shot down his idea of going on a cross country road trip for their honeymoon instead of Jamaica because she bought 14 bikinis for every day of the trip, and she told him to sign up for classes at the rec center instead of finding a new job because their financial stability was more important. She had a point he supposed. What was the point of a midlife crisis if he had all the fulfillment he was looking for at 22? Besides, with the tire store discount he'd be able to afford a really awesome sports car when he hit _that_ wall.

He couldn't shake the feeling though that they were pretending everything was okay. Like even with all the intimate talks it didn't change what was lying under the surface. And while Allison chose to focus on Rachel as the problem because that was something tangible that she could compare herself to, Finn knew that the problem was Lima... or the metaphor of everything it stood for in his life.

_We can't just move. We've got eighth months on our lease and you can't just get a job anywhere. You're not a mechanic because you're good at it. You're a mechanic because your dad let's you be. _

_Can't this just wait until after the wedding?_

_Just a few more years. Until we get settled. We'll look into other options then._

She was right. Maybe he was being unrealistic.

Finn rinsed his hands in the sink and shook off the excess droplets before using the remaining dampness to style his hair. "Is mom already in the car?" He asked, glancing at Burt through his reflection in the mirror.

"Yep," he chuckled.

"Is she freaking out?"

"Well your brother was going to give her a Valium to calm her nerves," Burt began with an amused shrug. "But apparently those are harder to come across than they were in the 70's, so he made her a Shirley Temple instead."

He narrowed his eyes curiously. "How's that supposed to help?"

"He implied that it was a much stronger drink," Burt said, lowering his voice and shielding his mouth in a playful whisper.

Finn grinned and nodded in understanding. Catching his eye again in the mirror, he adjusted his tie for a third time.

"You sure you're ready for this?" Burt asked, dropping his brows with concern. "Because if you're getting cold feet, I have a few well rehearsed concession speeches I had prepared in case my last two brides came to their senses and went all runaway on me."

"Well you know what they say," his smile faded for a moment but he quickly lifted his lips in a lopsided grin. "If your feet get cold, put on warmer socks."

Burt frowned and clasped a hand on his shoulder. "You know they don't say that, right?"

Finn bowed his head in a sheepish nod and lifted a finger to scratch his temple. "If they don't, then why am I wearing three pairs of socks?"

Burt pulled him into a hug and patted his back a few times for emphasis. "You know I'm proud of you. No matter what, right?"

"Thanks, Dad," Finn said quickly, suddenly feeling overwhelmed in a totally _not _masculine sort of way. Running a finger under his eye, he verified that there weren't in fact tears forming there, because there were only two scenarios where it was okay for dudes to cry: funerals and the Grand Canyon (which was where his funeral would probably take place after Allison chucked him in there should he have gone runaway groom on her).

Finn climbed into the backseat of the car next to Kurt just like they were 16 again going on one of their family dinners. Turning his attention out the window he watched the streets and store fronts flash by. School wouldn't be starting for another week, but the preseason for McKinley athletics started the first week of August and the football team was still out on the field practicing, even though it was nearly dusk out.

_I am afraid of turning my back on something that actually made me happy for the first time in my sorry life._

He had always tried to believe in ghosts. He hoped that his Dad would haunt him and his mom or something so that he could get to know him and they could be a family, kind of like in _Ghost Dad,_ but he always knew that it was never real. He even tried to create an imaginary friend once too because Puck had one and he seemed to have a really awesome time with him. Years later of course, he found out that Puck invented his imaginary friend the same day he learned what masturbation was because he'd rather jerk off instead of waste time playing with Finn outside.

The point was, Finn suddenly had this eery feeling that he was being haunted. The only problem was that he was being haunted by himself and it wasn't even Christmas time, when those sort of wonderful life caroling epiphanies were supposed to occur. And even worse, every version of his ghost (past, present and future) were all the same. A loser.

Finn barely recognized the feel of the car come to a halt as it pulled into a space in front of the church. Vacantly, he made his way through the church, offering hugs and kisses to friends and family that he only vaguely recognized, most of them belonging to Allison. He was having one of those out of body experiences, he could tell. Where he could see all these things taking place around him but he was powerless to move and all the words were just a blur that he couldn't understand. He was starting to wonder if Kurt "spiked" his Shirley Temple too.

At some point he felt Kurt tug on his hand and direct him up the aisle towards the alter.

"Are you okay?" Kurt snapped a finger in front of his face. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"I have," he confirmed.

Kurt only rolled his eyes with amusement and stepped off to the side with the rest of the groomsmen to bicker with Puck over who got to stand first.

"Can we get everyone to their places?" The pastor announced and everyone seemed to all funnel in different directions until Finn was standing alone in the center of the church.

"Are we rehearsing with music, or is this a dry run through?" The pastor asked Finn.

"Oh, um..." Finn glanced at him blankly over his shoulder and opened his mouth to speak before the words were stolen from him.

"I'm here if you need me."

His head snapped to look down the aisle where Rachel stood timidly with her hands folded in front of her flowing blue dress. Finn felt his breath catch in his throat as she took a few steps up the aisle, her hair bouncing in loose curls over her shoulders. Somewhere at some point in time he could hear the swells of Gershwin's "Someone to Watch Over Me" playing faintly in the distance.

_I like how you dream big. I don't know how to do that._

For a moment it felt as if the ground disappeared from beneath his feet. Like when a magician would pull a table cloth off of a perfectly set table. Finally regaining his footing, he moved to meet her half way, but paused when he saw his brother hurry after her.

"Over here," Kurt intercepted her and directed her towards where Brad was sitting behind the piano.

Rachel handed him her sheet music and gave a quick nod towards Kurt who joined the rest of the wedding party to start the ceremony.

Finn immediately recognized the song within a few key strokes. He had heard it a million times when she was rehearsing for her theater company and he had even seen her perform it on Broadway once when he had gone to visit her in New York.

_Strange, dear, but true, dear,  
When I'm close to you, dear,  
The stars fill the sky,  
So in love with you am I._

He hated that song more than anything. Every time he heard it, all he could hear was her saying goodbye.

_Even without you  
My arms fold about you.  
You know, darling why,  
So in love with you am I._

The wedding party began to file down the aisle and Finn tried his best to focus on the procession but couldn't stop his eyes from darting to her direction.

He could feel the sensation of her arms wrapped around his bare chest while she murmured the lyrics in his ear.

_In love with the night mysterious  
The night when you first were there.  
In love with my joy delirious  
When I knew that you might care._

Kurt swooped past Finn with an amused grin, breaking him from his hypnosis. "She has a flare for the dramatics, don't you think?"

Finally Allison appeared in the doorway. Her hair pulled back into a neat bun and her body wrapped tightly in a sleek floral print dress as she strut down the aisle on her father's arm. She was breathtaking, there was no denying it and as she stepped towards him he found himself completely frozen, unable to move.

_So taunt me and hurt me,  
Deceive me, desert me,  
I'm yours 'til I die,  
So in love,  
So in love,  
So in love with you, my love, am I._

Finn shut his eyes tightly. For a moment it felt like he was returning to Earth. That when he opened his eyes there would be some sort of clarity. That he would know all the answers. Instead it felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff peering over the edge wondering if anyone or anything would catch him when he fell.

…

Rachel Berry hadn't always been the best at taking hints. She was intensely focused and often wore blinders that filtered out what others would see as obvious deterrents. Sometimes this passion and drive worked out in her favor. She'd win the big singing competition, or the boy of her dreams would tell her he loved her, or she'd star on a Broadway stage. But other times she sent freshmen to crack houses, or made out with her boyfriend's best friend, or she found herself singing at her ex-boyfriend's wedding.

She had never actually envisioned getting to that moment. She never really envisioned an ending to their story at all. It was like getting lost in a maze but being too stubborn to turn around, tangled in some inevitable disaster that would never end well. She was too proud to admit that she was wrong. Too heartbroken to admit that she had lost him. Too devastated to return home in failure. This was definitely one of her more spectacular disasters.

Rachel made her way around the perimeter of tables lining the rehearsal dinner. It was at Allison's parent's property, a sea of tables decorated with white Christmas lights that reflected beautifully off the edge of the lake. It was like a fairy tale. A horribly twisted and life destroying fairy tale.

"So you actually watched her walk down the aisle and _sang _for them?" Mercedes asked incredulously, sporting her best _girl, please_ look.

Rachel could only nod absently while her eyes stayed trained on the groom-to-be sitting at the head table. She could feel that feeling in the pit of her stomach. The one that welled up when it sensed something horrible was about to happen, like when she rented _American Psycho_ instead of _An American in Paris. _It was over, she realized. She had lost.

Eyes burning with the sting of tears, Rachel stood from her chair to find a dark parking lot to sob in, but was interrupted by the sound of a clinking glass. Finn stood at the head table holding a glass up, prepared to give his toast, leaving Rachel frozen in place.

"Hi," Finn said nervously into a microphone. "Yeah. Thank you," he continued sheepishly. "I'm not the best at these speech things as most of you can probably attest. I guess first off, I'd like to thank everyone for coming out tonight to eat really expensive shrimp," the crowd chuckled faintly. "Seriously, if you saw the price per pound your mind would be blown. So thank you Kurt for that one," Finn said leaning towards his brother and tipping his glass towards him as if to say _Cheers!_

"Right. So. Most of you probably know that my dad died when I was really young, so growing up it was just me and my mom and she did a really awesome job raising me," he turned to acknowledge his mother and smiled adoringly. "You know, the best.

"But it was tough doing it on her own because of work and life and stuff and sometimes I lost my way and sometimes I really didn't like myself," Finn said, a frown creasing his lips for the briefest of moments before lifting into a wistful grin. "But then I joined glee club and I learned that it was okay to be different and to accept the parts of myself that I thought were the lamest things in the world. Mr. Schue, Kurt," he turned to address both before turning his gaze on her, "Rachel." Rachel stood frozen like a deer in headlights, her heart pounding in her ears as he raised his glass towards her. "You guys saved me. You made me strive to be a better person and although I usually messed that up along the way you never gave up on me.

"You became my family when I lost everything, Kurt of course against his will, and although I think you guys got the shorter end of the deal, I will always strive to stand right by you." His eyes locked with Rachel's again and he swallowed thickly. "Even if it means letting you go.

"Now. You're all probably wondering, why has this guy babbled on for so long without once mentioning his stunning fiancee and I don't blame you," he said, gesturing towards Allison. "They call me a dolt for a reason, whatever that means. The point is, is that these people in my life have shaped me into the man I am today. The man that Allison chose. And quite honestly I never pictured myself here, but through Allison I've learned to let go of ghosts and to be grateful for all that life has given me. And now we're starting our own family. So I would like to raise a toast. To new beginnings and embracing all that we have been given."

The yard filled with the sound of tapping glasses and polite applause as Allison stood to give Finn a quick kiss and Finn reached out to give Kurt a hug. Everyone seemed so happy. Except for Rachel Berry, who felt like Eliza Doolittle at a horse race. Bowing out gracefully, she slipped quietly away from the dinner to escape the nightmare that she had ensconced herself in.

She had just reached her car when the patter of footsteps caught up with her. Who was she kidding though, his steps could never be associated with pattering. More like the off tempo pound of footsteps.

"Rachel, wait," Finn called out after her. "Where are you going?"

Rachel felt a tear swim down her cheek. "Home," she said tightly, not turning to face him. "I shouldn't be here." Taking a deep breath to compose herself, she glanced at him over her shoulder and smiled. "I really liked you speech, Finn."

"Thanks," he smiled that earnest grin that made her fall in love with him instantly in high school and still made butterflies dance in her stomach. "I meant it you know. Every word."

"I do," she said. And that was what hurt the most. Knowing what she had had, knowing that that was gone.

He slipped his hands into his pockets and took a step closer, tilting his head thoughtfully before he spoke. "You sounded amazing at the rehearsal."

"I can't sing at the wedding tomorrow," Rachel said, tears immediately springing to her eyes no matter how hard she tried to fight them.

"I understand," he nodded solemnly. "In fact I was surprised you came tonight. I wouldn't have blamed you if you hadn't shown. I know I wouldn't have."

"I spoke with Mercedes and Tina and they're going to take my place, although you may need to renegotiate wadges with Mercedes." Dropping her gaze to her hands she took a deep breath. "I'm leaving for New York, tonight. I can't be here anymore."

"I'm sorry Rachel," he said and bowed his head to watch his shoe scuff against the pavement of the driveway. "I never should have let you stay, but I wanted you to."

"No," Rachel interrupted quickly. "I was being selfish," she sounded out each word slowly as if she were recognizing it for the first time. Finn was wrong in his speech when he said that she had gotten the short end of the deal in their relationship, because she had learned so much from him too.

"All my life I've been seen as a loser in some form or another because my personality can be a bit harsh at times. The only times I've ever felt like a winner have been on stage and when you've loved me."

Tears sprang freely from her eyes now and she made no attempt to hide them.

"And I know it's an awful thing to say," she continued with a bitter laugh, "but when things didn't work out in New York, I really needed to know that I could win again. But we're not sixteen anymore Finn, and I can't compete with the gorgeous blonde to win it all and live happily ever after because at the end of the day you'll still be here and I can't be here anymore. And that's why this relationship will never work, no matter how many times I try to fool myself into thinking it will. But you've made your choice, so congratulations."

"Look, Rach..." Finn began.

"No," she interrupted again because she wasn't finished. "It's okay. I'm glad I came back. It made me realize that it wasn't just _you_ that I was missing. It was being a part of a family, part of something special. I was so immersed in my career that I pushed everyone away. I was ignoring my Dads' calls Finn, my Dads! But being around you and Kurt and Puck, Mercedes and Tina..." she arched a surprised brow before she added, "and Santana, it made me realize that I need to open myself up to forming those sorts of relationships in New York."

"Oh..." he gave a quick nod and forced a smile. "That's great."

"I'm just sorry that I almost sabotaged your relationship in the process."

He shrugged, "Nothing that a few years of counseling won't fix... or maybe like a pre-nup."

"And I just wanted you to know that I love you, truly I do." She frowned sadly, "I'll love you my whole life. But I'm happy for you. Really."

Overcome with the heartbreaking clarity that this chapter of her life was officially over she turned again to leave but he caught her hand.

"It will always be you, Rach," he said squeezing her petite hand in his. His eyes sparkling with a glossy sheen that matched hers. "You know that. You just get me, better than I get myself sometimes, which is freaky in a way, and you touch me on this like really deep and emotional level," he said gesturing between them with his free hand as if the connection were tangible. "And I wish I could be the kind of man that you deserve because your life is going to be amazing and you never needed me to make it that way."

She nodded sadly and slipped her hand from his. Turning back to her car, she reached for the handle but paused.

"Finn, just promise me you'll never settle, okay?" She said after a moment of silence. "You're capable of so much more than you think you are." Glancing at him one last time, she flashed him a bright grin. "Never give up. Someone famous told me that once."

"Yeah?" He cocked his head with a playful grin. "Me too."

* * *

_Song featured is Cole Porter's "So In Love" from the Musical _Kiss Me, Kate.


	10. Don't Stop Believing

**Author's Note:** I am so sorry for the delay on this story. I was on a real roll but then I had a couple of life events pop up that put me on a delay. I will say, Glee in its current state has made me hypersensitive with misogyny and I spent a lot of time second guessing everything I wrote trying to make sure I didn't fall into the same trap where men were making all the right choices for their women because they knew better or whatever, so I hope that I stayed on the right side of the line on that one. Anyway, thank you everyone who stuck with this story, I hope you enjoyed it! I'll probably try to stay away for multi-chapters for a while (since I suck and all) but I do have some one parters lined up (ie floating around in my head). Thanks again for reading!

* * *

**Chapter Nine: **_Don't Stop Believing _That I'll Finally Get It Right

Finn Hudson paced nervously in front of the apartment door as he dragged his sweaty palms across his dress slacks. Taking a deep breath he lifted his hand to knock, his heartbeat so loud in his ears that he could barely hear the muffled chatter on the other side of the wall. Shaking his head, he dropped his fist in defeat and resumed his pacing.

The ceremony was due to begin at 3PM. He was running out of time.

He felt his phone buzz in his pocket.

_Where are you?_

The text read. Finn frowned. Kurt was on the hunt for him now. He really was running out of time.

Slipping the phone back into his pocket he turned back to the door for one last attempt to knock. If he didn't do this now, he'd never be able to. His life would be relegated to passivity for the rest of his natural born existence. That or drawn out court battles and legal fees.

The problem (he had learned at the last possible moment) was that he had a habit of being a little dense. He was known to make mistakes... rather often. Sometimes the same mistake more than once. And that morning when he woke up in Kurt's spare bedroom and his eyes landed on the tuxedo hanging in the closet, his first thought was _this __is__ a __mistake._

Rachel was gone. Most likely in New York by now, and she was leaping back into the fire with no job or friends to stand by her all because she was never willing to settle in life. She was a fighter, no matter how many odds were stacked against her. And here he was about to get married in t-minus six hours because that was what Lima expected him to do, because that was the safe choice and he was too terrified to ever do otherwise.

That didn't seem fair though, to anyone really. He cared about Allison, loved her even. She was someone he really did like (especially before all the Bridezilla stuff). Someone that he could really build a life with if only that life was one that he wanted.

But she wasn't Rachel. And nobody would ever be Rachel. It was like one of those taunting epiphanies (he'd experienced them plenty times before and they pretty much always led back to her) when everything seemed so obvious and simple. If you loved somebody, it was supposed to be easy. You were supposed to be with them, cue ending title sequence, insert sappy love song from the soundtrack.

And so here he was, about to make or prevent the biggest mistake of his life. Only time would tell.

Years ago, at the end of senior year, the glee kids had gathered at Santana's house for a bonfire to celebrate the end of an era. Finn had found himself sitting by the flames with only Quinn as company and she had sat down beside him and laughed wistfully. "I still can't believe you broke up with me at a funeral," she had said.

If she could only see him now.

Pressing his lips together, he turned on his heels and pivoted towards the door. He could do this.

_Hey Allison! Oh no! Is that you in your wedding dress? Well that's it, this marriage is jinxed, but hey, at least we tried._

He chuckled dryly. Yeah that would work. A quarter past never.

Taking another lap around the corridor he watched the entrance with laser like precision. Maybe the door would swing open to reveal some hunky pool boy that Allison was carrying on a sordid affair with. Then he would be able to end the engagement with righteous indignation and stop hating himself so much. Where was Puck's skewed girlfriend stealing moral compass when he needed it?

He shook his head. This was all on him.

Lifting his hand a final time, he knocked on the apartment door.

"It's open," came the muffled response.

It didn't matter if the door was unlocked he had a key, after all it was _his_ apartment. But he knew that there were rules for these types of situations. "Is Allison in there? I need to talk to her."

"Finn?" He could hear Allison shriek from the other room. "What are you doing here? You know you can't see me yet. Did you forget something? Why didn't you just send Kurt?"

He could feel his chest become impossibly tight and when he opened his mouth to speak, his throat was too dry to make a sound. Unbuttoning the top few buttons of his collared shirt, he cleared his throat.

"I need to talk to you," he repeated.

There was a long pause and Finn could hear the clunk of her footsteps approaching the door carefully. "What is it, Finn? Why can't this wait?"

"Look, can I come in there or you come out here?" Digging his hands into the pockets of his slacks, he bounced on his heels anxiously. "It's kind of important."

"You're not seeing me before the ceremony," came her defiant response.

Finn took a deep breath, shut his eyes tightly and braced for impact. "I don't think I can marry you," he said quickly.

It was silent then, like the calm before the storm. In fact the eery silence seemed to linger long enough that he was convinced that he was dead. That sniper riffles had been assigned to the loft across the street for such a moment. She was ready and waiting for him and he would pay for it.

"What?" Allison said carefully, as if perhaps she hadn't heard him right the first time.

Finn blinked a few times. He was alive. But for how long? Recognizing his out, he considered taking it all back. Pretending that he left his cummerbund on the sink and that this whole exchange was just one huge misunderstanding.

But then the words tumbled out of his mouth before his brain could comprehend them. Like when his hand was caught in the cookie jar and instead of blaming it on the invisible dog, he would begin weeping and apologizing like he was caught with the Crown Jewels or something.

"I'm just really messed up in my head right now and I don't want to do something that either one of us is going to regret."

She laughed incredulously. "Like canceling your wedding?"

He was stuck with this now. He started with the truth and now he was going to have to roll with it.

"I just need some time."

"Time for what?" She hissed with unrelenting concern that he should have anticipated.

"Time to figure out what I want," he explained, still with some level of confidence from the anonymity of only having this conversation with a six panel door. "What my dreams are."

"Time to be with Rachel?"

Finn flinched, he should have expected that. "Allison, can we please talk about this."

The door crept open slowly, revealing the ivory gown she was going to wear to marry him. Her makeup wasn't finished and her hair was still suspended by a few large curlers but even so she took his breath away.

"Wow you look..." before he could finish his thought he felt the sharp snap of her palm against his jaw. He wanted to talk to the door again.

"You are not doing this to me, Finn," she said pressing a pointed finger against his chest, her green eyes drowned in the glisten of impeding tears. "We worked through this. We figured things out. You can't just go changing your mind now."

He stumbled a few steps back from the petite blonde's rampage before regaining his footing.

"I'm not changing my mind," he snapped in defense. He was suddenly struck with his survival instincts. The ones that told him that whatever verbal diarrhea he was spewing was a great idea. "I'm just for once actually telling you how I feel. I'm sick of living my life like a child with everyone telling me what I should do or how I should feel. I'm done with that. Enough!"

Allison folded her arms across her chest and lifted her chin coldly. "Fine Finn," she sneered. "What do you want?"

It was a simple question. Or so he thought. But as Finn's eyes traced along the hallway floorboard, unable to meet his fiancee's glare, he was again at a loss.

"I want to stop feeling like such a failure."

"Would you stop?" She spat, venom dripping from each word. "You have a steady job, a home, a woman that loved you, that's hardly a failure and you know it. This is about her and the fact that you couldn't make your life fit with hers. To make it work. And now you're always going to be bitter for the rest of your life because you weren't good enough for her. Well get over it Finn, not everyone has impossible expectations."

"Is this what you want?" He countered. "Be honest. You and me. Do you really want to marry me? To spend the rest of your life with _me._"

There was a moment of hesitation. Her brows lifting from the stern expression plastered across her fragile face. "I could," she said softly, barely above a whisper.

"But would you be happy?" He prodded.

Her glistening eyes met his and he could feel his heart shattering into a thousand pieces because he knew that it was all his fault. "No, not with the memory of how I felt in this moment."

"You're settling just as much as I am, Allison. And you don't deserve that. You're awesome and hot and you are really good at getting what you want when you put your mind to it."

"Except for you," she said sadly.

"Consider yourself lucky. I suck. Like totally. You can ask anyone," he offered, receiving a small smile from her. "So it's settled then."

"It's not that simple Finn," she shook her head, slamming on the breaks with a screeching halt. "Do you know how humiliating this is?"

"I never meant for it to be this way," he said, taking the moment to sweep forward and place a comforting hand on her shoulder.

Incredulously, she brushed his hand away and took a few steps back to distance herself from him.

"Then why couldn't you have done this two hours ago before I put on my dress?" She asked tearfully. "Or 24 hours ago before I made a fool of myself by enacting our vows in front of our friends and family? Or 48 hours ago before my family flew in from all over the country to see me get married? Or six months ago before you put a ring on my finger and asked me to marry you? Why did I get caught in the crossfire of you finding yourself?"

"I'm sorry," he offered weakly, as if he hadn't imagined how his decision could possibly affect the other member of this relationship.

"No you're pathetic," she bit back.

If there was one thing Finn Hudson didn't like, it was the prospect that someone did not like Finn Hudson.

"Allison, please," he begged, nearly tripping over his feet to comfort her.

"Get out," she said simply. Turning on her heels to move back into his apartment. "I never want to see you again," she threw coldly over her shoulder before slamming the door behind her.

…

The problem with canceling your wedding on the day it was supposed to take place, besides the constant threat of running into your former fiancee's friends or relatives lurking in every shadow to belittle you, was the fact that the wedding vendors were not at all sympathetic towards your situation.

The cake had already been baked and decorated. The Chicken French was already 90% prepared the night before. The flowers had already been cut. The photographer was already with Allison in her dressing room before he had even gotten to her. And he had already picked up his suit. What on Earth was he going to do with eighty-eight servings of Chicken French?

Finn sat stubbornly at Table 12 and ripped open another sack of yogurt covered almonds. Lifting his gaze to the giant ice swan, he watched another drop of water fall from its beak before popping an almond into his mouth.

He was _that_ guy.

The guy that ballroom waiters shuffled nervously around in polite silence and whispered about discreetly in corners. He was the guy that was sitting in the middle of an empty reception hall in a rented tux trying to live out his lonely wedding for one.

"I spoke with the caterer," Kurt said, slipping into the chair beside him. "They said we can buy the pans, but it'll be $130 each."

Finn turned his eyes on his brother disbelievingly. "For a pan?"

Finn was not sold.

"If you want to save eight pans of chicken, you're either going to have to put it in something or you're going to have to eat it all before 10PM when we lose the ballroom."

"Fine then," Finn said and unbuttoned his slacks. "Go get me a plate."

"You can't be serious," he rolled his eyes. "You going to finish off the salmon and mashed potatoes too?"

"I'm not buying those pans!" He barked.

Kurt took a deep breath and waved over one of the caterers. "Get me a chardonnay and a scotch and keep them coming."

"Kurt it's like 11:30 in the morning."

"If I don't get a drink," he smiled tightly, "then even _I_ am going to break up with you."

Finn narrowed his eyes at him and reluctantly took his drink. Taking a healthy sip he resumed looking at his ice sculpture.

"I tried recovering that Tupperware set from your apartment, but all I got was an expletive laden diatribe on where I could shove said Tupperware that I'd really rather not repeat," Blaine said, approaching their table. "What are you guys doing?"

"We're watching the ice, dear," Kurt explained. "We don't want the ice to go to waste."

Blaine positioned himself between the boys and lifted a thoughtful finger to his temple. "Well if we broke it up, I'm sure we could fit in in the freezer."

"It's for people to look at, Blaine," Finn grumbled. "We paid $500 for people to look at it, not mix it with their drinks."

Blaine flashed a dry grin before shrugging his shoulders. "Would you like me to invite some of the Warblers over then? The more eyes we can get on this thing, the more likely we'll run that tab up before it turns into a swimming pool."

"Blaine, darling, you're not helping," Kurt said pointedly. "Did you find anything for the food?"

"Yes," he said revealing a box of Ziploc bags. "We'll probably need more, but this should be good for now. I'm still not sure what we're going to do about the cake."

"Lauren volunteered to take any layers that were chocolate and I'm sure any of the leftovers that we brought to the shop would be gone in a flash," Kurt said. "Brittany and Santana are coming to pick up the flowers on the pretense that they'd bring them to the hospital, but I'm pretty sure I overheard Brittany say something about turning their apartment into some sort of woodland fairytale retreat for their pet garden gnome. And Coach Sylvester is using the photographer for her Cheerios of McKinley calendar."

"Really?" Blaine asked incredulously.

"She's donating the proceeds to Special Education in public schools, so it's not really something you can argue with." Kurt lowered his voice, "I did talk her out of making the donation in the name of 'Finn Hudson, The Poster Boy for McKinley's Inability to Service Those with Special Needs."

Finn rolled his eyes and threw back the rest of his drink.

"Anything else we need to get our money's worth from?" Blaine asked and positioned his back to Finn while he and Kurt plotted for a way to clean up _his_messes leaving Finn feeling absolutely mortified.

It wasn't just the fact that they had to take care of him. It was the fact that they were not at all surprised to be doing it. Like _Oh,__Finn__canceled__the__wedding?__Implement__Plan__B,__I__guess.__We__were__ready__for__this__anyway._

Kurt paused for a moment before grinning. "The limo driver. He was very rude to me earlier when I attempted to cancel his service. Mercedes has agreed to use the limo for a day of diva pampering as a show of our thanks, a sacrifice for her, I know."

Blaine chuckled, "You're looking for someone to be difficult? Where's Rachel Berry when you need her?"

This pinched a nerve that was throbbing to explode, and wordlessly Finn rose from his seat and kicked over the neighboring chair before stalking out towards the kitchen.

"I'll go give the driver directions to Mercedes' house," Blaine said with a flinch.

The kitchen was still buzzing with the low murmurs of caterers, no doubt talking about what an idiot he was and when he saw one of the cater waiters dump a tray of hors d'oeuvres into a garbage can he absolutely lost it.

"What are you doing?" He barked, crossing the entire length of the kitchen in three long strides.

"Wedding was canceled, dude." The waiter shrugged, obviously blissfully unaware that a jilted groom with a bruised wallet was wreaking havoc on the venue.

"Give me that," he growled as he wrestled the serving tray away, sending the waiter cowering away in terror.

Letting out a frustrating breath, Finn turned his attention to the garbage, fishing out each bite sized Beef Wellington and placing it back on the platter.

"We get it," Kurt said. Pressing a fresh drink in Finn's hand, he plucked away the serving tray. "You're upset."

Finn clutched the glass tightly in his palm and took a long swig, too stubborn to speak.

Kurt peered over the edge of the garbage can and reluctantly reached a hand in to rescue the discarded food. "But you brought this all on yourself," he finished.

"Don't you think I already know that?" He snapped.

"You did the right thing though," Kurt offered with an encouraging grin.

Obviously Kurt hadn't peered a glance at the inbox on his cellphone, which was filled with moderate threats and several implications of the size of his manhood, or lack there of.

"Yeah? Tell that to Allison and her family."

"Of course," he chuckled, his face contorting in disgust as he rearranged the rancid smelling appetizers. "You're not really going to eat these, right?"

Regaining some sense of pride that he had previously watched evaporate into the thick summer air as he tried to untie five dozen already inflated customized balloons in hopes of getting a refund, he shook his head.

Kurt let out a sigh of relief and he dumped the tray back in the garbage before turning a sympathetic eye to his brother. "What are you going to do now?" He asked.

Finn ran a hand through his hair and shrugged. "Figure out what to do with all this food, I guess."

"That's today," he said. "What about tomorrow? Or the day after that?"

"I don't know," he leaned against the stainless steel counter top and frowned. "I didn't think that far ahead." Sipping on his scotch, he lifted a contemplating shoulder. "I can't stay here. Everyone hates me."

"Everyone doesn't hate you," Kurt said and moved to stand beside him. "Only the Potter's do and they live far enough away to lull you into a false sense of security."

"Well they hate me enough for the entire state of Ohio, believe me."

Silence swept between them and for the first time in a long time Finn had the sense that everything was going to be okay. That no matter how many stupid and asinine decisions he made in life, he'd always have someone beside him jumping into dumpsters to help recover all his belongings as they rained down from his apartment window right into the garbage because when you loved someone, it didn't matter how insanely expensive your designer suit cost, you would always know where to send the dry cleaning bill.

"Thank you, Kurt," Finn said, leaning over to nudge him with his shoulder. "For like being my brother and stuff even though you didn't have to."

Kurt reached for his chardonnay and smirked. "Well everyone was always expecting for you to look out for me in high school, I figured it was about time I'd return the favor. Because you know, contrary to popular belief I _am_ the older brother."

Finn chuckled, "But I'm bigger."

"So," Kurt said and lifted an eager brow. "Now that you owe me one, how about you answer the million dollar question."

"And what's that?"

Playfully tipping his glass towards his lips he rocked his shoulders playfully. "When are you leaving for New York?"

Finn pressed his lips together and arched a thoughtful brow. That was the obvious conclusion in the grand scheme of things, but something felt empty and unearned about the whole thing.

"I'm not," he said after a long moment.

"Really?" Kurt scoffed with a hint of disappointment. "After all that? You're not even going to try?"

Finn lingered with the thought for a moment before pushing it aside.

"I can't keep on following other people's dreams anymore," he said with a surprising amount of determination. "I have to figure out my own for a while."

"And how do you plan on doing that?" Kurt inquired. Unable to resist a good bit of gossip, his eager curiosity was transparent as his eyes lit up with anticipation.

With no small amount of amusement at his brother's piqued interest, Finn pondered this for a moment, before he was struck with a moment of brilliance. A slow smile spread across his lips as he stood to his feet.

"Call up Puck," he finally said. "Tell him to pack his bags and gas up the truck."

…...

Rachel Berry took a deep breath and hefted the worn duffel bag of freshly cleaned laundry higher onto her shoulder. The lamp in the hallway fluttered faintly, obviously on the latter end of its days, causing the corridor to be quite dim. Lifting her hand with a dismissive wave she continued up the steps. Her lease was up in three days anyway, what did she care of the hallway aesthetics?

Rounding the corner towards the next flight of stairs she heard the distinct and muffled sound of her cell phone through her handbag. Swinging the satchel from her shoulder with practiced ease, she plucked the phone from her purse and grinned at the name on the Caller ID.

"Yes Daddy?" She chirped as she continued her trek up the steps. "Of course I can't wait to see you. I won't be done packing yet, but I get to pick my keys up in the morning." Halfway up the fifth flight she began to fish for her keys, quickly snatching the jingling ring before twirling the keys around her pointer finger. "No don't bother, I have rehearsal till six. No you can not sit in the audience and watch! I have just gotten my foot back in the door in this business and I will not be stamped with the stigma of being a Daddy's Girl!" She laughed. "Of course I'm still a Daddy's Girl! They just need to know me as the powerful and independent woman that I aspire to be," she paused on the last step and lit up with a content grin. "Of course I'll re-enact the whole play over dinner! It will be like you were there _and_ you'll have the benefit of hearing my superior vocals on all the lead roles."

Rachel hoisted her dripping laundry bag back up her shoulder as she shifted her phone to the crook of her neck. Making her way down the hallway towards her apartment, she paused when she saw a figure sitting outside her door. "Daddy, can I call you back?"

Cocking her head curiously, Rachel felt an overwhelmingly familiar swell from the pit of her stomach. "Finn?" She called out.

The man on the floor looked up at her in startle. "Rachel, hey," he said quickly, a smile spreading across his lips although he made no attempt to stand.

"Finn what are you doing here?" She asked, moving to set her laundry down before sinking down beside him.

He paused, taking in all his surroundings again like even he was surprised to be there, sitting before her.

"I, uh, I didn't go through with the wedding," he said bowing his head shyly.

Rachel nodded slowly, trying to display the appropriate amount of sympathy. "Kurt filled me in. I'm so sorry." Truthfully, she was ecstatic at the news. So much so that she found herself accepting an invitation for drinks amongst her competition at that days audition to celebrate. A type of gathering she would never attend before last summer's ordeal.

"No," he shook his head. "It wasn't your fault or anything, it was just... it was just the right thing to do, you know?"

Rachel pressed her lips together to force away the smile threatening at the corner of her lips and placed a comforting hand on his knee. "Whatever makes you happy," she agreed.

"Yeah," he said wistfully. A lull swept between them and Rachel found herself mesmerized by the sight of him. He was here in her world again and he was happy.

"I heard you left Lima," she said after a long moment. In fact he had left six months ago without a word. Only occasionally sending a postcard to tell her how "awesome" his current destination was.

He nodded eagerly, his joy contagious as she found her eyes lighting up with the same wondrous excitement. "Puck and I, we went on a trip. It was awesome, like one of those old movies where they hop trains and go hitch hiking and stuff," he said animatedly, blabbering on a mile a minute. "Did you know you could camp in the Grand Canyon?" He asked abruptly as if it were some well kept secret. "I mean it smells like donkey crap but it's like the coolest thing in the world."

"Yeah?" She appeased his excitement, even though to her camping was only acceptable in five star hotels.

"Totally."

"I got something for you," he continued before ruffling through his large worn duffel bag. Pulling out a plaque, he presented it to her. "I got it in LA. It's a star on the Walk of Fame," he explained.

Rachel traced her finger across her name listed above the theatre symbol, her heart somehow aching with joy, punishing her for not feeling this happy all the time.

"I mean it's not really on the Walk of Fame or anything," he said, bowing his head sheepishly. "But I bet it will be some day. And you know some people buy stars for people that are, like, real stars, which is pretty cool too I guess. But I don't know, I was thinking about those, metaphor things and I thought this kind of fit."

She smiled politely. The radiating sphere version of a star would have been a metaphor, she wanted to correct, this plaque was just wishful thinking.

"It's wonderful," she said, folding it closely against her heart.

There was a slight pause before his eyes again lit up with excitement. "I heard you got cast in the revival of _West__Side__Story._"

Rachel set her souvenir on the floor beside her and tucked her legs off to the side to adjust her skirt. "Well as Anita's understudy," she shrugged. "But that only puts me third in line for the role of Maria and there are still three weeks left in rehearsal for that casting mistake to be rectified."

"I hope those girls have good insurance," he teased with a knowing smile.

Rachel nudged him playfully with her shoulder before dropping her gaze to her folded hands in her lap. There was a growing sense of anxiety brewing with in her. The sober reality that his return in her life was but a mere figment of her imagination.

"So how long are you in town for?" She asked hesitantly.

"A while," he said simply.

She narrowed her eyes inquisitively in an attempt to decrypt the possible meanings, but Finn seemed to sense this and elaborated.

"When we were in New Orleans, they were working on this documentary for the history of jazz. Like one of those mini-series that play on PBS while they sell you burlap sacks and DVD sets for a hundred bucks. Anyway, they needed someone to go through their catalog to pair music with all the different segments and apparently that's something that a guy with a communications degree is qualified for."

"That's great, Finn."

Finn's lips settled into a lopsided grin and he reached up a hand to run through his hair before letting out a nervous chuckle. His eyes darting to every corner of the corridor, sparkling with exhilaration. "The producer. He really liked me I guess, and he has this production company in mid-town and he offered me a job."

"In New York?" She said slowly, her brows knitting slightly with confusion. "You have a job in New York?" She repeated just to be sure it was real.

"Yeah," he confirmed. "It's kind of my dream job actually. I mean wasn't that what glee club was about? Finding the perfect song to express the emotion of the moment. And he says I have what it takes to be a producer too, so that's kind of cool."

"No, it's amazing!" She shouted. "Sorry," she cleared her throat and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear to contain her excitement.

"It's not just the position that makes it my dream job," he added quickly. "It's that it's here, in New York, with you."

"It is," she agreed carefully, casting her gaze to her lap.

"And for once I feel like maybe I can be a part of your life without holding you back. And I know I shouldn't expect you to just take me back after everything that happened but I want you to know that I'm here, finally and not just because it's what you want but because I want it too. It's where I want to be."

Suddenly she could feel his eyes on her boring into her with that familiar intensity. "Look Rachel, I should have picked you," he said earnestly. "No. That didn't come out right. I should have tried harder. To figure out how to make this work instead of just assuming it never could. I know I don't say this enough but thank you."

Rachel lifted her eyes to meet his and arched a curious brow. "For what?"

"For always believing in me and never stopping, even when I deserved it."

She was lost in his gaze for a moment and had to clear her throat and look away to come up with a coherent thought. "It's funny," she finally said. "What you were saying about using music to express the emotion of a moment. When I was losing you," she explained, "I was trying to find the perfect song to recapture what we had. Like a theme song to our journey. I thought it might be Separate Ways, but I was wrong."

That light that sparked whenever they were on the same wavelength ignited in that moment and Finn nodded in understanding before he cringed.

"Please don't tell me it's Open Arms. I hate that song."

"No," she giggled. "We needed a reprise."

He narrowed his eyes. "I'm not sure I know that one."

It seemed so obvious, like it had been glaring her in the face since the moment she had been haunted by their relationship.

"Often in theatre they'll reuse a song from the opening act as the climax or the closing number to kind of show that the same song can apply to different stages of a story," she explained. "Do you remember the first song we ever sang together?"

He pressed his lips together thoughtfully, his eyes dancing as if reliving every moment they shared together before he grinned playfully. "You're the One That I Want?"

She looked at him pointedly and shook her head. "I mean _really_ sang."

His eyes darkened knowingly because it was a secret that only they were in on. "So what are you saying, that you want a reprise?"

"If you want," she said with bated breath.

"I want to," he said. Reaching for a lock of hair that framed her face, he twisted it around his finger before tucking it behind her ear. Lowering his voice to a whisper he sang. "Don't stop believing."

She reached for his hand and laced her fingers with his. "Hold on to that feeling."

* * *

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